


The Making Of:

by natimesia



Series: August, Honey [2]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25028362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natimesia/pseuds/natimesia
Summary: An excerpt from August, Honey:“You were mine,” he slurs when the ringing stopped. “Remember, in August, you were mine.”Silence, just pants, then - “I was. I am, baby.”“No, you’re not. You’re not anymore,” Even says. There’s heat in his voice; his heart is beating so erratically. His nails are digging on his palm; a little more force and it’ll draw blood. “It’s officially September. Now you’re just a stranger.”“Stop saying that and can you please just-”“You breathe so loud, do you remember?” Even says, and he’s on a roll. “I was listing all your flaws to make it easier for me to hate you because it was you who broke us up that one time. And you know what I got? All that I could think about was how you breathe so fucking loud it drove me crazy.”“Even, please-”“You drove me crazy that time, too. It was the most hurt you ever made me feel.”-Or: that worst August, September, October, November and December of Isak and Even's life, all told in Isak's perspective.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Series: August, Honey [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812448
Comments: 19
Kudos: 59





	1. the fallout

**Author's Note:**

> This is set way back before the events on August, Honey, but I really suggest you give that a go first.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Series of emotions come flooding through Isak’s veins in an instant - elation that Even’s finally back because he’s been gone for two weeks and Isak misses him so much it hurts, relief because Even’s here in their apartment and not dead lying in a ditch somewhere, thank fucking God, but then it quickly transitioned into resentment because Even’s been gone for two weeks and he never fucking called or texted and Isak was losing his goddamn mind. Finally it settles into somber, because Even’s finally back and Even’s here, but Even never fucking called or texted, and Isak had been so alone, and Isak have been so fucking lonely for a while now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. the downfall

More than anything, Isak wishes the month isn’t August.

He is not particularly aware of what day it is, but it’s okay; he doesn’t want to know, anyway. He doesn’t want to look back one day and remember the exact date when Even breaks his heart.

It’s late at night, he is just coming back from what is possibly the most dreadful week-long study session with Sana, and he’s just about ready to pass out until next year. This semester is definitely kicking his ass big time, and just thinking about the fact that he’s only three weeks in makes him want to curl up and vomit. It’s taking a toll on his physical health, and it’s slowly but surely becoming very visibly apparent now. Isak honestly cannot for the life of him remember what he ate today - if he even ate today. He can’t think of the last time he’s had a proper meal, really. He is pretty sure he’s digested more cases than actual food at this point, but it’s alright, because as it turns out, he doesn’t have much appetite these days, anyway. 

Finally reaching the apartment door, Isak is expecting nothing but an empty flat, because that’s what it has been for the past two weeks - desolate, dark, silent, a sharp contrast from what it once was. He loves this flat; fell in love with it the moment he saw it. It is smaller than the one he shared with Eskild, but it doesn’t bother him because he never needs much space, anyway. Isak’s a simple man; give him a box room with a shelf for his law books and a clean bed to sleep in and he’d happily take it. But as luck would have it, not only did he find a place conveniently close to the university, he also found a place he’s actually happy to call his own.

Unfortunately, that hasn’t been the case lately.

It’s depressing to think that it’s not the same happy feeling he associates with the flat when he goes in anymore. He can’t even stand staying in for too long - not when it’s this hollow. The only time he drops by is when Sana has had to tell him that _you do know you’re free to go back to your place and take a shower sometimes, right?,_ and after a well-deserved glare and an offended huff sent on her way, Isak conceded, so he went back to take a quick shower, packed some clothes for change, watered the tiny succulents by the kitchen window and fed Rome. He then goes back to Sana’s for another session of studying/torture, but sometimes he goes and crashes in Mahdi’s couch when he’s particularly feeling lonely and sad and the itch to get high is tangibly inescapable - which is something that is getting more and more frequent nowadays. 

That has been Isak’s routine for the past two weeks, and so far, so good - or as good as it can get, anyway.

Tonight though, as he opens the wooden door, Isak immediately notices that something’s different. For one, it’s a bit bright inside, glaringly opposite from the usual dark flat that he’s getting accustomed to. That’s when Isak realizes that the night light in the living room is turned on. He briefly wonders if he had forgotten to switch it off the last time he dropped by, but that wouldn’t make sense because he doesn’t even stay long enough to open the lights. A few more seconds pass before his eyes adjust, and that’s when he finally catches a glimpse of the familiar silhouette casually sitting on the couch.

Even’s back. He’s finally home.

Series of emotions come flooding through Isak’s veins in an instant - _elation_ that Even’s finally back because he’s been gone for two weeks and Isak misses him so much it hurts, _relief_ because Even’s here in their apartment and not dead lying in a ditch somewhere, thank fucking God, but then it quickly transitioned into _resentment_ because Even’s been gone for two weeks and he never fucking called or texted and Isak was losing his goddamn mind. Finally it settles into _somber_ , because Even’s finally back and Even’s here, but Even never fucking called or texted, and Isak had been so alone, and Isak have been so fucking lonely for a while now. 

See, Isak has not been at home for the past two weeks, but only because his home was not at home.

“Even. You’re here.” Isak is frozen from where he’s stood as he watches his boyfriend’s hand lightly grip the end of the sofa cushion as if he’s restraining himself. Of what, Isak has no idea.

It takes a moment for Even to respond, and when he does, his tone is nothing short of defensive. “Of course I’m here. I live here.”

Even’s eyes flicker from Isak’s then to the duffel bag slung on Isak’s shoulders before it returns back to his gaze. Even’s adam’s apple bobs when he swallows and says, “Last time I checked you do, too, but the landlord told me the apartment’s been vacant for two weeks now, so I wonder: where were you, Isak?”

For a moment, Isak only looks at Even. It’s also because he’s looking that he notices how Even seems to fidget a bit after what he just said, and for the briefest second, Isak feels so relieved that at the very least Even is well-aware of how hypocritical he sounded.

There’s something different about Even tonight, and Isak hates that he’s having a hard time reading him at the moment. He has always prided himself of being the only person who knows Even Bech Næsheim inside out, so the fact that he’s feeling so unfamiliar right now feels like an absolute kick in the guts.

Isak takes a huge gulp before answering, “At Sana’s,” and his heart - it feels so heavy.

The darkness behind Even seems to wholly envelop his whole body that it was bordering on eerie. Even still, the sudden shift in the air between them is palpably eerier, and it is making Isak’s skin prickle.

All of a sudden, Even’s voice turns so icy and so full of accusations that Isak feels cold all over when Even says, “You know Isak, if you weren’t really so keen on living together, you should have just said so and we could’ve at least spared ourselves from getting this place.”

Isak remains silent. He’s honest to God speechless.

“I talked to Sana, and she said you left her place before dinner.”

Even stands and steps forward then. His eyes stay trained on Isak’s like he’s the only thing tethering him to reality, and Isak feels like he’s starting to crumble under his gaze. “I’m going to ask for the last time. Where have you been, Isak?”

Isak’s mind is working thousand miles per second to come up with a reasonable explanation, but he just ends up stuttering over his words. “So you’re monitoring me now? Really?”

Even’s jaw clenches just as Isak’s fists do. “Why are you deflecting the question?”

“I’m not deflecting.” 

It surprises Isak how his voice sounds serenely calm for how hard his chin trembles.

He decides to move. Isak haphazardly drops the duffle bag onto the floor and walks to the kitchen to grab a drinking glass. His hand visibly shakes as he fills it with water, and he can feel his heart beating erratically now.

When he feels Even’s presence in the room, he starts to speak again. “And to answer your question, I’ve been staying at Sana’s for the past couple of days,” he says. He turns to Even, and with a raised brow, spouts, “Welcome home, by the way. How many days has it been since you left again? Three? Five? Fourteen fucking days?” 

That shuts Even right up.

Isak hates this, so he turns back toward the sink. He refuses to meet Even’s eyes as he tries to assess his train of thought because he’s got to tread lightly at this point. 

It has always been a struggle for him - choosing the right words to speak. It isn’t a good trait for a law student like him, and that’s just another one of his very many disadvantages for the profession. It’s never a good thing for important conversations like this too, and most especially now. It’s just his luck that this struggle almost always happens whenever it involves Even. 

They rarely fight, but when they do, their once in a blue moon arguments had always been like this: Isak would be there standing, ready to argue his case, but then he’d take one look at Even’s face and suddenly it’s gone - everything just vanishes within the blink of an eye. All that’d be left is him and his open mouth, and then there’s Even, his beautiful boy who was always ready to listen to whatever bullshit Isak has constructed for an argument, and all his resolve disappears. It almost always ends up with him crawling back to Even and wondering why they were even arguing in the first place.

That’s not the case this time though, because at this very moment, Isak’s resolve cannot be any more tangible, and it's just begging to be released now.

“I don’t usually mind being alone whenever you’re away. I’m keen on living with you, Even, contrary to what you just said. But I also don’t mind the silence once in a while.” 

He takes a deep breath before he continues, “I also understand that you can’t talk much while you’re doing your thing. Of course I do. I’ve been with you there. I know.” His grip on the glass tightens then. “This time’s different, though. How I wish you’re not aware why it is, because then I could have given you the benefit of the doubt. We both know that’s wishful thinking now. You know. Of course you do.”

The _‘and yet’_ hangs in the air.

Digging his fingernails into his palm, he resumes, “My phone died hours ago and I didn’t know you’d be back.”

“You’re not-”

“If I knew you’d be back,” Isak barrels on, making his voice deliberately louder this time, “I would’ve answered the phone. I would’ve called back. I would’ve at least texted.”

Even has got to get it, Isak thinks. He _has_ to.

“I’m not like you,” Isak finishes quietly. 

And just like that, he feels slightly lighter. It’s a wonder how unloading such simple words could at the very least ease the burden he’s been carrying within him for the past week.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What I meant,” Isak snaps, his gaze hard as he finally finds the courage to meet Even’s, “is you should stop being a hypocritical ass and demand where I have been when it’s you who was away doing God knows what in God knows where for the past two weeks.”

Even’s expression is incredulous when he exclaims, “You know I was working! You were the one who pushed Yousef to book that gig in Finland, remember?”

“Eskild called me and said you came back last week,” Isak interrupts.

“Eskild doesn’t -”

 _Enough_.

“Stop making up some dumb fucking excuses and just admit that you can be such a fucking hypocrite sometimes, Even!”

The silence that comes after rings loud and clear inside their tiny kitchen. He couldn’t move. He’s had a long day, the exhaustion is seeping through his bones, and the last thing he wants is to come home and argue with Even but it’s happening and he can’t take it back now - not when he’s feeling the anger of the past weeks actually boil in his blood, and all of a sudden, just like that, he breaks.

His sudden outburst is such a shock to his system, but nothing compares to how he feels with what happened next. Even does the last thing Isak has expected him to do.

Even - he starts laughing.

He laughs, bold and loud, and it sends absolute chills down Isak’s spine. He’s heard every version of Even’s laugh before and he loves every single one of them, but this one - it’s different. It’s new; it’s the driest laugh Isak has ever heard.

“Wow,” Even breathes out as he shakes his head and walks over to the other side of the dining table - to put a space between them maybe, Isak vaguely thinks. “I’m the hypocrite, _fuck_.” Then he laughs again.

Isak’s so taken aback that he falters. “What does that mean?”

Just like that, the mirth behind Even’s eyes disappears. Even stops laughing. His eyes are wide, filled with rage, and Isak thinks Even might actually hurt him. Isak sees how white his knuckles go as his grip on the back of one of the chairs tighten. 

“You know where I’ve been? You know where I’ve really been? I’ve been staying at my parents’ house for a week now, Isak. I headed straight there because I knew you wouldn’t be here anyway,” hisses Even, and that is a revelation to Isak.

Of course, the question of where Even had been staying nagged at the back of his mind for the past week. He knew he wasn’t at Eskild’s, and he wasn’t at Jonas and Eva’s either because they would’ve called him then. His best bet was at Mikael’s, but he didn’t get the chance to check - not that he’s been meaning to. Right after he learned from Eskild that they'd been back from Finland three days after Even’s supposed to be home, the bitter feeling he was harboring from being outright ignored exponentially increased.

So he was at his parents’ house, then. He chose to stay at his old house instead of going home to Isak. What a punch in the stomach, that is.

“They kept on asking why I was there when I have this apartment and I have you, but fuck, I don’t have you, do I? Not anymore.”

Isak takes a deep breath. “You were lying then.”

Even nods ever so casually. “Yeah, yeah I was,” he admits. His voice is vacant, but it’s resonating so loud and clear in Isak’s head. “I wasn’t out working, but I was giving you space, and that’s what you wanted anyway, isn’t it? You want me gone. You don’t want me here anymore.”

Isak’s jaw clenches. “You were back for a week and you never came home,” he points. “I never heard anything from you for the last fourteen days, Even, so if there’s someone who should be mad at the moment, it’s definitely not you. I don’t know where all of this is coming from, but the fact that you came home just to pick a fight with me is pretty fucking childish."

“Well that’s fucking rich,” Even scoffs. “I’m not picking a fight just because I want to. You know what’s happening here, Isak. We both do.”

“No, Even, as a matter of fact I have no fucking clue why you’re acting like this right now.”

Even shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“And I can’t believe you’re doing this now! You were gone for fourteen fucking days Even!”

“I’m doing this right now because I’m so fucking tired of your bullshit, Isak!” Even exclaims, his voice ringing loud in their tiny kitchen. “You think I’m an idiot? You think I don’t feel it? What the fuck do you take me for, honestly? You call me a hypocrite for not reaching out, but what about you, baby? When will you ever admit that you merely see me as a distraction now? Fucking hell, we moved in together but I never see you anymore!”

All the stress Isak has been feeling is rising up his throat, and it’s all ready to spill now. “Are you seriously throwing that to my face right now? You fucking know I’ve been slaving my ass off studying, Even! And you? What’s your excuse?”

“I don’t have an excuse. I don’t need one. You’re the one pushing me away, Isak, and I’m sick of it, and I’m back here to know why.” Even looks like he’s about to cry, looks exactly just how Isak feels, but he blinks it back even before tears start to form.

Isak opens his mouth to say something, but Even keeps powering through. He is a spitfire when he utters the next words that come out of his mouth. 

“I’m going fucking crazy with all these questions festering in my mind for the longest time and I need my answers now. Why are you doing this? What have I done? Am I not making you happy anymore? Have I not given you enough, have I not done enough? Fucking speak Isak, tell me baby, is there someone else?!”

Isak shakes his head vehemently as his heart feels like a second away from beating right out of his chest. “There’s no one else-”

“Then fucking tell me why you’re fucking pushing me away because I don’t understand you anymore!”

“I’m not pushing you away, Even!”

“ _Fuck!_ ” Even’s face veritably cracks into two, and the way he’s looking at him makes Isak look away. He can’t see that; he doesn’t want to see that heartbroken look on his boyfriend’s face when he’s the one breaking Isak’s heart at the very minute. 

“That’s it? You’re really just going to deny it then, without any explanation? Shit, baby. You don’t think I deserve more than that? I’m literally flying blind here. I’m barely hanging on now, Isak.”

Isak closes his eyes and takes a deep, shaky breath for a second. This isn’t fucking right, he thinks. There’s something missing in this whole equation; it can’t be that this is all turning to be his fault.

He braves a peek and what he sees is the utter look of exhaustion spread all over his lover’s eyes. That’s when he finally remembers. 

With heart erratically pounding in his chest, Isak throws, “And what about you, Even? You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You think I wouldn’t find out about those messages, those offers, those fucking opportunities you’re passing on? Just to what? Just so you could be stuck in a job you hate so you could supply me fucking free coffee in the morning four times a week? Fuck’s sake, Even, even you’re not that stupid.”

Even looks like Isak just slapped him. “Where did you get that?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter, Even! What matters is you know very well that the band wouldn’t get far when you spend most of your days in the Kafe doing something you don’t even want to do, and if that isn’t the most pathetic thing, then I don’t know what is. Do you even know how that makes me feel? Do you?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Isak has an answer. “It feels like it’s on me that you’re not living your dreams while I’m apparently living mine. And that’s so fucking unfair because I don’t even get a say in this! I never asked for this! This is all your choice. And it kills me how everytime I go home I see how tired you are and how unhappy you’ve become and it’s all because of something you decidedly convinced yourself is for me. You’re wasting your life for me, Even, and I don’t want that on my hands! I refuse to be the reason why you’re doing this to yourself.”

He pauses and takes a deep breath.

“So maybe you’re right. Maybe I really am pushing you away, but that’s only because I don’t like what I’m seeing anymore. I’m seeing you quit your dreams right in front of my very eyes and I’m not going to watch you do that to yourself any longer.”

For the first time tonight, Isak feels like he has the upper hand in this argument. It’s such a bad thought, but he’s just feeling so relieved because he has finally dished it all out, this one big chunk of thought that’s been haunting him for the longest time.

“It’s my choice to make.”

“Do you even hear yourself, Even? This is not you, anymore-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Isak.” Even’s voice is trembling but he keeps his expression veiled.

“Oh, so now you don’t wanna talk,” Isak goads. “You always throw at my face that we don’t talk anymore, but now that we’re here finally doing it, you’ve decided that you just wanna stay silent?”

The glare Even sends him makes the hair on his skin stand up. “We don’t talk because you’re never here. Don’t you get it? I understand that you’re studying and that you’re doing this for you, for us. What I don’t get is why you’ve been so distant lately, and every time I try to reach out you just fucking reject me. I admire that you’re passionate about pursuing your dream, but I can’t fucking accept the fact that you have to give me up in the process.”

Even holds back a sob and buries his face in his hands for a moment before pulling up with a bitter smile and dim eyes.

“We don’t talk anymore because you don’t have time for me anymore and that’s the whole truth,” he says. “I don’t feel you anymore, Isak. I’m doing everything to make you happy, and all I wanted was for you to reciprocate because isn’t this how it’s supposed to be? You’re all I want, but I’m so fucking tired of reaching out for something that isn’t there and I think I’m just _done_.”

Isak stares back with his mouth agape and his expression in disbelief. The admission was such a rude awakening, and they stand in a stunned silence for a long time.

With tears in his eyes as the revelation finally dawns to him, Even cries, “I’m not happy anymore, baby. And I don’t think I can do this anymore. I don’t think I wanna do this anymore.”

There is no moment, through all of this, that could compare to how Isak feels right now. That nothing comes close to the surge that works its way through his whole body, because right here in front of him, standing with his hair all messed up and his face an absolute mess of emotions is Even, and this is their relationship falling out.

This is Even reaching his breaking point, and this is Even breaking his heart.

“ _Fuck_ ,” is all he has to say, because what else is there to say, really?

Isak knows, of course he does. He’s known that Even’s unhappy for a while now, but fuck, so is he. He’s so unbelievably unhappy and he’s feeling so lonely and so fucking frustrated because he’s giving it all but it doesn’t seem like it’s never going to be enough. Isak’s trying to make things work as much as he can, and he’s convinced himself that as long as he tries and gives just a little bit of himself more, he‘d probably finally like what he does, and of course he knows that they’ve been in this funk for the longest time, but Isak never thought it’d come to the point where it’ll push them to the end, to the point where one of them is just about ready to give up now.

And the thing is, Isak has always known that it’s going to be him who’s going to ruin this beautiful life he built with Even because he’s the certified mess in this relationship and Even’s just so bloody perfect. 

What he doesn’t anticipate is the pain it causes when he realizes that this is how it ends, and that it’s ending now.

He looks at Even, with his face red and blotchy and his eyes wide and terrified, and just like how it has always been, every resolve within him vanishes within the blink of an eye.

“Isak, I-”

“I can’t do this,” Isak chokes, tears freely flowing in his face. “I’m gonna go. I can’t, I -”

He reaches the door.

“Isak.”

He pauses. “What, Even?”

Isak’s ready to take it all back, to say that he’s changed his mind. That he’s not going to leave because they’re still capable of fixing this. That this is just a bump in the road, and Isak’s not equipped enough to surpass this all by himself. Just the right word from Even and Isak will absolutely drop everything.

But there’s only sheer fucking silence, and then finally, “I’m so fucking sorry, Isak.”

So there it is.

The final nail in the coffin.

Isak’s really not sure how to react, not sure if he’s just dreaming and this is all nothing but a terrible nightmare. Maybe, he’ll finally wake up from Sana’s couch and the morning will restart and this never happened. Even better, maybe, just maybe, hopefully, Isak will wake up in Even’s arms, and they’d kiss each other and promise to love each other forever.

But surely enough, no matter how many times Isak blinks, he’s still standing by the door, and Isak is still watching as Even crumbles right in front of his very eyes, and his heart absolutely breaks from hearing Even’s _I’m sorry_ because it sounds like he means it too much, and he cannot fucking believe that this is happening tonight, in the apartment where they decided to build their life, in fucking August when they just had their third fucking anniversary last twenty-fifth, and Even wasn’t even there, Isak realizes. Even was already back in Oslo on their third anniversary but he never went home, never bothered calling him.

And suddenly, just like that, it’s coming to him now:

The date is August thirtieth. It’s a Saturday, it’s eighteen degrees outside, and Isak can't believe he’d look back one day and would be able to remember the exact date when Even breaks his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I'm not done with this version of Even and Isak just yet, so here we go.
> 
> Hold on to your seats, fellas. This is going to be one hell of a ride.


	2. the breakup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You weren’t so keen on fighting for me to stay either,” Isak spits. “You never asked me to stay.”
> 
> “Well I’m asking you now,” Even says quietly, voice trembling. “Better yet, ask me. Ask me to hold on. I won’t go anywhere. I won’t let go. I won’t give up, I swear, Isak. I swear.”
> 
> The sudden desperation in Even’s voice absolutely breaks Isak’s heart. What kills him more is that Even still doesn’t get it. He’s too far in denial for him to be able to fully understand everything.
> 
> “I’m not going to do that, Even,” Isak says, and each word pierces right through his heart. “Not when you don’t even love yourself enough to love me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. rome, the ugliest couch, and sana being the best

August turns to September and life goes on because of course it does.

As much as it seemed like the entire world broke down and collapsed around Isak the day he left without so much of a restraint from Even, it didn’t. The sun still rose, the birds still chirp, and Isak still feels like shit. 

Life goes on. There isn’t some magical side effect of him leaving; Isak does not miraculously get better coping with school, his sleeping patterns are still quite nonexistent, he doesn’t suddenly stop caring about Even more than too many other things. His eating habits have improved though, but that’s mainly because he’s been bunking in Sana’s pull-out sofa bed and she made it a point to monitor Isak’s food intake three times a day ever since Wednesday last week when he almost passed out in the middle of the hallway just before lecture started. 

It wasn’t a brain-wracking decision when Isak decided to head straight to Sana after that night in August, and she proved it abundantly clear because when he arrived at her doorstep looking as if the world just shat on him, it only took one look before she opened the door wider to let him in.

Sana didn’t ask, and it was a good thing because Isak wasn’t in the right mind to speak. They spent the whole night and the following day in total silence, and despite feeling so fucking miserable, there was this underlying feeling of gratitude within him for her because she was just exactly what he needed. 

That’s the best thing about Sana. She never pries, but somehow she just knows, and she completely understands right away. She’s the first person Isak runs to whenever he needs someone to give him tough love because that’s her specialty, among other things. Sana listens, and she never passes an unsolicited judgment, but she speaks her mind when asked and Isak sometimes hates that she’s almost always right. Sana Bakkoush is born to become a lawyer, Isak thinks, and he can’t help but to envy her a bit, of how seamlessly she fits in in law school when Isak’s barely hanging on, but he admires her a whole lot more. 

And for most of the time, Sana never fails to remind Isak that she barely tolerates him at best, but then again, she’s still by Isak’s side three years down, and they are still conquering the whole law school journey together, so he learns to just block it out and not to take even the tiniest bit of offense.

So life goes on. He doesn’t drop by at the Kafe before classes just like how he used to; even made it a point to walk a few more blocks just to avoid being within its vicinity. He still needs coffee to be able to function, so it’s a blessing in disguise that he decides to bunk with someone whose veins run with what seems to be the perfect ratio of ninety percent caffeine and ten percent blood. Sana practically inhales coffee; her whole flat smells like roasted coffee beans it could rival some local coffee shops. It was so strong Isak once joked that just one whiff and he’d be up and ready until Christmas. It was received by an unamused glare of course, but he expected nothing less. Isak learns to bite his tongue and tone down the sarcasm and humor around her because nothing really passes through Sana. She’d either straight up tell you that you’re an idiot or just downright ignore you and then walk away. There’s really no in between. The time he made up such quip, he received both. He only smiles; it just goes to show Sana makes an exception for him, albeit antipathetic.

Life goes on. The only thing Isak can’t seem to adapt to is the different route he takes and the train stops he gets off from on the way back from the campus. Four days after the fallout, he had found himself getting off the station near his shared apartment with Even, and only when he was already in front of their building that he realized exactly where he was and what he was about to do. On the way back, Isak made it a point to grab a pack of beer in their local groceries shop with that over-friendly owner and it took all his strength to maintain the fake smile plastered on his face because _oh, your boyfriend just left ten minutes ago and bought pasta and our best wine! Date night, huh?_

Isak left the shop feeling like he’d just been stabbed a thousand times front and back. He spent the whole train ride going back to Sana’s drinking the cans of beer even though it is illegal, and of course he knows it’s illegal, but no one reported him probably because he looked like someone whose entire family had just died. The only thoughts running through his head was that he needed to get away as soon as possible and he needed to feel numb _pronto_. The moment he reached Sana’s flat, he’s way past being coherent and Sana had to carry him to bed. The last thing he remembered was him repeatedly murmuring _you’re my best bud_ , and he knew he looked bad enough because Sana didn’t even negate; she only tucked him tighter into bed.

Life goes on, on goes life, and Isak has not seen Even’s shadow for about two and a half weeks. He’s not called him, not sent a text. It’s been radio silence on Isak’s part, and on Even’s too, seeing that he can’t count how many heartbreaks he endured whenever his phone lit up and it wasn’t Even’s name appearing. Isak hasn’t asked anybody how he is, and truth all laid out he doesn’t - couldn’t want to know. All that he could think about were Even’s words that kept on going over and over in his head like a goddamn broken record and Isak hopes, and he prays to whatever deity who cares enough to listen, that Even just said those words out of anger. 

Isak knows that’s just wishful thinking now.

And so life goes on, but the thing is, it kinda sorta didn’t feel like it does because Isak’s stuck, see. As much as the logical part of him screams to just ignore and repress everything that has happened between him and Even, the rest of him just cannot let it go. There is just this itch, this painful want to touch Even, and it’s all Isak’s ever wanted; all he’s ever accustomed to. Isak wants to feel Even’s fingertips on his cheeks and he wants to hear his voice. He wants to look into his eyes as Even fucks him slowly and then as fast as he could and then slowly again, and Isak wants to feel Even’s hair against his skin as he tucks his face between the crevices of Isak’s neck. He yearns for the sting that follows after Even mercilessly bites his collarbones, and he wants his hands to travel up and down Even’s naked torso and map the freckles on his back like he used to. 

Isak wants Even, because when does he ever not? He wants him badly; he wants him all. Isak can hardly think straight on those nights when he thinks about the way Even makes Isak arch up into him, biting at his own bottom lip, scratching at Even’s back. He wants to hear his throaty whispers in the dark, the caress of his breath as it fans out across Isak’s lips.

Isak misses the strong, pungent smell of Sharpie as Even lays him down on the bed and uses his whole body as his own canvas. He misses the feeling of Even drawing beautiful markings on Isak’s arms and chest and ass, and he craves the feeling of his foot tangled with his during their lazy mornings. Isak is dying for his scrambled-eggs-with-two-spoons-of-sour-cream Sunday morning breakfast special and fuck, he wants - Isak wants Even so much, so overwhelmingly.

Isak also wants to hit him, wants to punch the nonchalant expression off his beautiful face because it took him five fucking minutes of incessantly ringing the doorbell of their shared home before Even opens the door when he in fact knows Isak was coming back to pick up all his stuff today. 

Even is clearly in a mood, and Isak knows because he could tell from the way he acts and the way he holds himself. Even is normally a ball of sunshine, of optimism and positivity squeezed all into one. He’s always full of energy, always smiling, always amiable. Even is not a difficult person, but right now it seems like he spent all day focusing every bit of his energy on making this process as miserable as it could be and Isak refuses to tolerate his bullshit.

Isak refuses to meet his eyes longer than necessary, so instead, he lets his gaze fall down at Even’s legs which are wrapped in black tattered skinny jeans. That’s a new sight, Isak muses, seeing that whenever Even’s home, his usual go-to clothes are sweatpants or boxers and sometimes, on those once in a blue moon days where it’s actually hot in Norway, absolutely nothing at all. Isak briefly wonders if he dressed up for the occasion, but he quickly dismisses the thought just as it pops into his head. 

_What the fuck am I saying, occasion?_ he grouses. _I’m literally just about to pack all my shit up._

“Well, look who the cat brought in.”

Isak knows right then and there that Even is shitfaced drunk.

He chances to look at his face and wishes that he didn’t because _fuck_ , but Even’s still so beautiful, even with the more prominent dark circles and the apparent lack of sparkle in his beautiful, beautiful ocean eyes.

Seeing Even after two and a half weeks of radio silence edges Isak towards a funk, especially when he looks so fucking good when Isak’s world feels like falling apart.

“Can I come in?” 

It’s so weird hearing those words leave his mouth. This flat has been his home for almost a year, and to ask permission to enter feels like Isak’s heartstrings just got tugged and dragged from Antarctica to the North Pole and back.

“Be my guest,” Even slurs with arms wide open, and he’s so hammered it’s ridiculous. Isak wants to ask if he’s okay but decides against it, because if that isn’t the stupidest question to ask, then he wouldn’t know what is. Fuck, he himself is not okay, but who is, really?

On his train ride going to the flat, Isak gave himself a silent pep talk and decided an hour, two hours at most. He’s going to pack up all his shit, all his life within an hour or two and go. There’s no time to waste, so Isak barrels onto the bedroom first because clothes are his utmost priority. The September weather is harsher than usual for the past week that his clothes are almost always soaked and it almost always sends Sana into conniption seeing the puddle he caused in her living room. He’s so tired of using the laundry room in Sana’s basement every other day just to wash the few pieces of clothing he has with him. He’s also tired of explaining to his law school blockmates that _no, Henrik, this is not a case of walk of shame, I literally only have four clothes for a change_ \- not that it’s any of their goddamn business why he’s been going to school wearing Even’s maroon parka consecutively for a week.

When he enters the room, he’s surprised to find out that nothing much has changed. As he lets his eyes wander around, he realizes that nothing even remotely changed at all. The bed is still as messy as can be, and right on his side of the bed is the half-empty glass of water he usually places before he goes to sleep. The posters and cut-out memes he fought Even with are still up on the wall, and his Human Rights book is still lying open on top of the study table, his uncapped yellow highlighter serving as a bookmark and is now obviously dry. 

There are a couple of pants on the floor which he bets both he and Even wouldn’t be able to distinguish whose is whose even if their lives depend on it. Several sweaters are strewn haphazardly over the couch in the corner, and the thrifted grandfather chair which serves as his own personal dirty clothes hamper (much to Even’s annoyance) looks unmoved at all.

The sight of the room knocks the wind out of Isak, because everything’s the same, and yet everything’s so different.

Deliberately ignoring the bed sheet that looks like it has never been changed, Isak walks straight toward the closet. He catches a glimpse of the comic drawings Even made for him, of him, thumbtacked over the wall next to it and holy fuck he is _not_ going to break down ten minutes in. Absolutely not. He has his dignity intact when he comes in, and he’d die before he gets out with it shattered.

With a new feeling of resolve, he starts moving.

Not even five minutes in, Even with his long giraffe legs saunters into the room, and he’s now holding a bottle of whiskey and a cigarette is tucked behind his ear. Isak pauses from folding his clothes and watches as Even takes a careless swig and plops himself onto the couch. It’s an ugly piece of furniture, to put it nicely - patterned with blue and yellow plaid and sporting unrepairable rips and tears - but Even absolutely loves it, loves the lumpiness of the worn material and loves how fucking ugly it is. Isak almost had a conniption when he came home from school and there it was smack-dabbed in the middle of the living room with Even sprawled across it, wearing the smuggest look on his face.

Isak took one look at the scene in front of him, and with a deadpan, declared, “Absolutely not.”

Even’s face fell. “I like it!” he had said petulantly.

Isak raised his eyebrows challengingly. “If you like it so much, then you should sleep on it tonight,” Isak dared with a huff, and Even, the smartass son of a bitch, dragged the whole sofa all by himself inside their bedroom and made a point of setting up camp to sleep in it. Isak watched him from the bed and hoped his glare was piercing through Even’s pretty head. At two in the morning, Isak conceded, pushed Even further at the back and scooted in with an annoyed huff.

“I knew you’d come around-”

“Shut the fuck up, Even.”

He didn’t mention that it wasn’t because of the ugly couch, albeit being surprisingly comfortable, that made him change his mind. He knew that Even knew that it was because of him that Isak gave in. Isak didn’t have to say out loud the fact that he couldn’t sleep well without Even; he was pretty sure Even knew it already.

The couch never left their already cramped bedroom ever since.

That was a sweet memory, and Isak finds himself smiling a bit, but then he immediately looks away and resumes on his work when Even catches him staring. He grabs an overnight bag, throws some clothes in it, and picks some more sweaters to fold.

“That’s mine,” Even speaks, pointing on the piece of garment in Isak’s hand with the hand holding the bottle.

Isak pauses, looks at the blue sweater on his hands, and gives Even an unamused look.

“You bought this for me.”

“Exactly. I bought it. It’s mine.”

Just like every other Average Joe, Even has a different persona when drunk. Isak first witnessed his happy drunk that one time where they went all-out to celebrate the band’s first gig in a full-house bar. Isak’s the one who offered warm cuddles to a clingy drunk Even because Jonas and Mikael made him drink five shots of straight vodka just after finishing a glass of sex on the beach cocktail when they all know the mixture of those alcohol weirdly makes him sad. Isak will never forget the best birthday sex he’s ever had when a horny drunk Even mercilessly pounded him into the mattress and up to heaven and it was so fucking good Isak thought a piece of his soul left him right then when he climaxed. Eva took pains in pointing out and relentlessly teased him when she noticed him walking/waddling for three straight days after.

Right now Even is projecting a petty drunk, and Isak has only witnessed it that one time when they were in a bar after the band’s set and there was this guy who kept giving Isak looks. Isak had to push Even out of the bar before he started provoking the seven foot man, and he spent what was possibly the longest night of his life trying to placate and dispel the insecure thoughts flooding through his boyfriend’s mind as he picked a fight with him.

Undoubtedly, a petty drunk Even is his least favorite version of Even.

Isak relinquishes, because arguing with a drunk Even, a petty one at that, is definitely a lost cause. “Fine,” he says. Isak makes a show of dropping the jumper to the floor before rolling his eyes and picking another, one he now knows for sure is his.

It’s silent for a couple of minutes, and then he realizes something.

“I’m taking Rome,” he declares.

“No fucking way.”

“I bought him. That’s the rule here, isn’t it? What you bought, you own.”

“You can’t fucking take Rome!” Even hisses. “You won’t be able to feed him. You don’t even have the time to feed yourself.”

Isak glares at him for a few more moments but decides to drop it in defeat. He hates that Even is right. Rome is the goldfish that he bought for Even when he got too depressed after his pug, Julia, passed away. It was the only option that Isak could think of buying because they really didn’t have much time to adopt a dog at that point, and taking care of a stagnant creature in the water wasn’t as demanding as taking care of an excitable canine. Isak was adamant to make Even feel the slightest better at that time, so when he passed the pet shop and the first thing he saw through the glass was the tiny, fat goldfish swimming alone in a tank, he didn’t think twice and just bought it. That night he went home with his arms full of a huge clear bowl instead of law books, and he looked ridiculous but he didn’t care because it was the first time in two weeks that he saw Even smile again.

“Whatever,” he grumbles.

Even makes a snort sound then. Isak pauses from his work, and with a loud sigh and a pointed look, he says, “Are you really going to be here the whole time?”

Both of Even’s eyebrows raise in challenge. “You’re the one who’s packing up all your stuff, baby,” he drawls. Isak’s heart jumps at the pet name, but it sounds so wrong in Even’s mouth right now and that’s not how Isak wants to hear it at all. “You wanted this. I never asked for you to leave, so why should I? This is what you wanted.”

 _It’s the last fucking thing I want_ , he wants to say, but instead what came out of his mouth is, “It’s what we need.”

Isak knows that Even knows that it’s true, but the only thing that he receives is that fucking dry laugh again.

“It’s what _you_ need, baby. Not mine.”

Isak rubs both his hands on his face as he shakes his head. He wonders when he’d stop feeling so fucking shitty. “You need this break just as much as I do. You may be in denial right now, but it’s true.”

“Of course, because you always know exactly what I need, don’t you Isak?” Even fires back, and he made his voice raise a few octaves deliberately, mockingly.

“Yes, Even. I do.”

“That’s funny, because if that’s the case, you knew exactly when I needed you, and you never did something about it,” Even says. “You left when I needed you to fight for me, for us. You left when I needed you the most.”

Isak’s grip on the fabric tightens. “Last time I checked it was you who said you don’t wanna do this anymore. You’re seriously not expecting me to stay after that, are you?”

Even rolls his eyes and scowls. “Let’s not fool ourselves anymore, Isak. You were already gone even before that night. I basically just made it easy for you and gave you a better excuse to go.”

“You weren’t so keen on fighting for me to stay either,” Isak spits. “You never asked me to stay.”

“Well I’m asking you now,” Even says quietly, voice trembling. “Better yet, ask me. Ask me to hold on. I won’t go anywhere. I won’t let go. I won’t give up, I swear, Isak. I swear.”

The sudden desperation in Even’s voice absolutely breaks Isak’s heart. What kills him more is that Even still doesn’t get it. He’s too far in denial for him to be able to fully understand everything.

“I’m not going to do that, Even,” Isak says, and each word pierces right through his heart. “Not when you don’t even love yourself enough to love me.”

Even looks like Isak just ripped his heart out. For a moment, the whole room is silent.

Finally - “I don’t love you?” Even repeats. 

“It’s true.”

“Well that’s fucking rich,” he scoffs. The anger and spite in his voice makes Isak’s whole body tremble. “Tell me Isak, when did I ever say I fell out of love, hm? Why am I suddenly hearing that pathetic excuse from your mouth when it sure as hell never came out of mine?”

Isak’s hearing white noise as he stands from where he’s sitting. He can’t believe they’re starting again right in the middle of their messy bedroom. “Are you kidding me? You said you were done, asshole. What else was I supposed to think?”

Even stands too, albeit wobbly. “I don’t know, but you should have never assumed, is what you should not have done.” There is something wrong in that sentence, Isak thinks, but even before he deciphers what it was, Even barrels on.

“Yes, we were in deep shit at that time, fuck, we _still_ are; I wasn’t particularly enamoured with your existence in those moments. How could I? You don’t fucking let me in! You break my heart every day, Isak. We were supposed to do this together, but you’re the one pulling away and I can’t do this for the both of us anymore. 

Do you know what it’s like loving you? It’s like I’m walking on eggshells all the fucking time, and lately I can’t even hold a proper conversation without feeling afraid that I’d set you off and you’d shut me out again. 

We weren’t like this before and I don’t fucking know what happened. We were so good, Isak, and you were all I ever wanted, baby. Fuck, I still want it, I still want you. I want everything with you, but it’s so fucking hard to stay when you’re giving me all the reasons to go.

So I’m sorry if I got tired of begging for your attention and stopped waiting around for you. I know when I’m wanted, and I know when I’m not. I may not know the exact time when you decided to drop me, but the bottom line is you did. You dropped me, Isak. After everything we’ve been through, _fuck_.”

Even’s resolve crumbles then, and Isak wants to reach out and seek comfort from the man who keeps on breaking his heart. He’s tired all of a sudden, and the sleep he’s lost from the past weeks is catching up to him now. He hasn't been doing well in the sleep department lately. Instead, he spent most nights awake long enough to witness the subtle change in the sky through Sana’s living room window when dawn approached. It crept up on him; a gradual shift from black to blue and he wouldn’t even notice were it not for the sound of the birds singing about how wonderful their ex-boyfriend free lives are outside. In the quiet of the night, while the ticking of the clock from the kitchen reverberates throughout the whole room, Isak catalogued everything that he did wrong.

He thought about Even and telling him that every bit of it had just been an awful, terrible mistake. Thought of telling him that he’s so sorry and that he’s tired of fighting with himself anymore, that they should pretend like it never happened, that he just wants to go home now.

Isak missed him with his entire heart, and he knew he should be the first one to approach because it’s all his fault anyway, and Isak knows and Even knows that Even’s the one on the right so he has every bit of a reason to not cave on his side of this dispute. Even is so level-headed it astounds Isak so much, and he’s learned it the hard way, right from the very first time they broke up.

It was the stupidest thing, so mundane that Isak couldn’t even remember what they fought about even if there’s a barrel gun held over his head. All he knew was that he was stressed with school - not that that's new anymore; he had been constantly living off of the stress for two years then, and Even had a bad day at work because Toby, the poor excuse of a human being he calls his manager had one of his crazy episodes and blamed Even for the broken cups that a small kid accidentally broke, and then Isak, being the little shit that he was had to push Even’s buttons over some inane bullshit further, and it was just a harsh bit of bad timing really, but it was enough for Even to snap, pack up his shit and bunk with Mikael. Isak felt like his world just collapsed and he felt so monumentally broken then, and it lasted as long as he could stand the radio silence that emanated from a flouted Even. In real time, it ended up being two days.

Isak reached his breaking point when he found Even’s guitar pick inside the fucking fridge of all places and he started bawling right then and there in the kitchen. He speed dialed one, put the phone on speaker, and the embarrassing cry that escaped from his lips as a greeting made Even immediately drop the call. Ten minutes later, Even was back in the flat and took Isak right back in his arms. The next morning, Isak had to call in sick because he absolutely refused to go to class when there were hickeys the size of Texas planted on his neck. Even had been a smug son of a bitch the whole day.

That felt like a lifetime ago when it had only been a year, and now here they are in the same predicament, but now it’s different. Now even gallons of tears would not be enough to bring Even back.

Even’s eyes are currently brimmed with tears as he speaks in the most resentful manner, his voice picking up speed with every word until he’s practically stumbling over his sentences. 

“You know what’s the most fucked up thing? It’s the fact that I missed you so much baby, you don’t even know. And these days I wake up every morning and just cry like the pathetic fuck that I am because the sheets still smell like you but you weren’t there, and you used to be there! You were there and I was there, and when things started getting hard for you at uni, when things went south for a while, I was still there, and I don’t fucking know what I did or what made you pull away, but it’s just so unfair. You’re so unfair, Isak. You know how much I love you, baby. You know how I feel.” 

Even looks like he’s about to collapse so he sits again and buries his face in his hands as he sobs. He doesn’t want to throw it to Isak’s face. He refuses to stoop that low.

But nothing’s lower than this. They couldn’t stoop any lower than this.

“You know everything. All the sacrifices I made, what I gave up, how I fought, who I fought with.” Even blinks his tears away. “Fuck, I stayed, Isak. God knows how I can’t count on my fingers the times I just wanted to up and leave, because I’m just so lost and it was already so toxic. And now I realize that I’m sorry I stayed. I’m sorry I bottled up all these feelings and kept it pent up all to myself, because then I became toxic too. I can’t even look in the mirror most of the time because when I do, all I see is nothing but an empty hollow shell of a man, a far cry from the person you once loved. And I was losing it; I’ve already lost it. I lost myself, I lost you, but fuck if I ever lost love.”

By this time, both of them are a sobbing mess.

“Loving you,” Even says, “is the easiest and the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.”

Isak closes his eyes, and wishes with every bone in his body for everything to just stop for a second. He can’t believe this is happening again, that this is happening right now, when there’s already so much going on in his mind, when he wants to take a step forward instead of three steps back and all he wants now is to just fix things between them. 

Isak is finding it hard to breathe, and he can’t breathe, and he needs Even, he wants Even -

“Even-”

“But I’m tired now,” Even declares and wipes the snot all over his face, “and I know that you’re tired too, and it’s so fucking hard right now, but you’re the one leaving baby, and I’m not going to ask you to stay this time. I’m so tired of letting you go, so I’m not gonna do this with you anymore because I was willing to give you the fucking world, Isak Valtersen, but I don’t think you deserve it anymore.” 

Even sighs and stands from where he is sitting. Seems like his speech just sobered him right up. “This is the last thing I wanted, but you’re so persistent. You finally succeeded, so congratulations, Isak.”

“I never wanted for this to happen, Even,” Isak sobs.

“But you did, baby. You did,” Even says, voice cracking. "Because if you didn't, then we wouldn't be here."

“I’m trying my best, Even. I really am.”

After what seems to be far too long of a pause, Even says, “I don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”

He grabs the bottle of whiskey from the bedside table. “You left me last August, and this is me leaving you now. You finally pushed me away, and now I’m going.”

“Stay,” Isak says, desperately trying to wipe the tears from his face that are continuously rolling down his cheeks. This is his last attempt. He doesn't know what else to do when all else fails.

He stands, fear and desperation all over his face, the brave facade fading in the background. He willingly submits himself to Even, and he is completely vulnerable as he speaks, “You said a while ago that if I ask you to stay, you will. I’m asking you now, Even. Stay.”

Even looks at him for a very long time, and for quite a while, all that can be heard is Isak's laboured breathing as he waits. And waits. And waits.

Finally, Even moves. He's shaking his head, then he says, “I’m not going to do that anymore, Isak," and these are just echoes of Isak’s words from earlier. Even's just throwing all his own words back to his face now. “Not when I don’t love me enough to love you.”

Even finally understands now, Isak realizes, but as he finds out, being in the right is in no way satisfying at all. It doesn’t hurt any less. It hurts just the same, if not more. 

Even takes one last look at Isak before he walks to the door. He stops with his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll come back after dinner. Surely you’ll be done by then.” He pauses. “Just lock the door when you leave.”

As the door slams closed, Isak feels the wind leave his body as the pain completely swallows him whole.

So there’s that - the end.

And yet, life goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This still needs to be edited, but thoughts?


	3. the after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak takes a deep breath and tries to sire the last drop of patience within him to speak and say, “I go home and see you looking like you’d rather be anywhere than with me, Even. I knew when to leave.”
> 
> “You look at me as if I’m the last person you’d rather be seeing. I knew when to stop,” Even says it so quickly Isak feels like they’ve uttered these lines before. Maybe they did, but they’ve said a lot to each other since then that Isak could honestly not remember anything anymore. His heart is broken, he has lost himself, and he’s definitely lost Even. Words were words; they were thrown, and they hurt, but they were just means to their end. And they have ended. Everything should have stopped there.
> 
> As it turns out, apparently, it still hasn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. sana's threats, yousef's birthday, and isak being thankful for eskild tryggvason's whole existence

Sometime in October, the world feels numb and so does Isak.

It is 21:25, Isak just came from his International Commercial Law class, and by God he’s drained. It is actually kind of a miracle that he’s even out right now, really, with the kind of day that he had. He managed to sleep at three in the morning, woke up at seven, spent the next eight hours glued in his usual nook in the library, and headed right to the lecture hall and half-heartedly listened to his professor who droned on and on for five straight hours. He usually doesn’t have any qualm with sitting on lectures for a very long period of time - he’d definitely take that than standing up and being grilled in a recitation any day, but the particular class was conducted by this notorious advocate who has the capability of sucking the living breath out of every single one of his students like a goddamn dementor, and Isak swears he is a living testimony of that. 

If only he managed to dodge Sana on his way out and avoided her infamous Sana-wrath by threatening him right then and there in the university hallway that she’ll absolutely have his balls if he doesn’t come out tonight, Isak would surely be buried under the covers, dead asleep to the world by now.

So maybe it wasn’t a miracle that he’s out. Maybe - _definitely_ \- it was because Isak has just always had the worst luck and Sana has just always been serious about her threats.

For the millionth time, Isak begs to know why he is still subjecting himself to this kind of torture - slaving his ass off something he isn’t particularly thrilled doing - well, not anymore at least. Three years he committed himself to law school, and this is not even the first time he has seriously considered just dropping everything and quit. He wonders if it is still worth all of it - the sleep-deprivation, the peaked anxiety and the panic attacks that he has been having so much lately. It is alarming how not a day went by since the start of the semester that Isak hadn’t checked if his sanity is still intact. He is not even remotely happy with what he is doing at this point, and most of the time he’s having the hardest time looking for a silver lining in the situation he’s decidedly brought himself in.

It has been a real struggle even from the start - finding a balance between taking care of his mental and physical health all the while performing well in school. It seems like the scale is tilting heavily on the latter lately; his class standing this semester is surprisingly promising, but Isak does not feel elated at all - not when getting out of bed every single day is a struggle, and especially not when every waking moment feels like he’d just rather not wake up at all.

But here he is, still standing, still breathing, still currently making his way towards Javi’s where the whole gang plans on celebrating Yousef’s birthday. It is so cold out tonight though, and Isak is ready to exert every last bit of energy left on his body and make a run to the restaurant for temporary warmth.

That plan flew out of the window as he found himself frozen in his tracks, and suddenly all his breath was knocked out of his lungs. 

_He really does have the worst luck, doesn’t he?_

Of all the people he could see on the streets, of course it’s going to be that one person he tries avoiding the most.

Isak sees him first. He catches him in the act of bumming a smoke from a stranger in the side alley next to Javi’s. He then retreats to the darker part, and Isak watches how casually he presses his back and head against the brick wall behind him as he takes a first hit. Isak’s eyes trail on the plume of pale smoke dissipating into the cold night air as he finally exhales.

It has been a month since he last saw Even, and Isak briefly wonders when his heart would take the fucking memo and stop beating so fast whenever he catches a glimpse of his boyfriend, _well_ \- ex-boyfriend now.

He knows Even will be present tonight. Of course he does - it was the first thing he asked Sana after she cornered him. She gave a dubious answer, an _it doesn’t matter because you’re coming one way or another, Isak, or else_ , before sauntering away. And he shouldn’t have asked, really; he himself expects Even to be here. He loves celebrating birthdays just like the dork that he is; even keeps a journal jotted down with everybody’s birthdays just so he wouldn’t forget.

Isak knows, and Isak expects, but what he never anticipated is the way his whole body downright seizes up freezes like he’s just been petrified by the sight of him, and he cannot believe his body is betraying him like this because _for Christ’s sake, Isak, it’s been two months, pull it the fuck together._

For a moment, Isak just stands there in the middle of the sidewalk with his hands limp on his sides, mulling over the fact that he still cannot believe how he managed to go on with his life after that brutal September night. Maybe it has got to do with all the printed self-help articles that Eskild had basically shoved in his face after he got fed up with Isak moping around the flat. It was also the same self-help articles which proclaimed that two months after the break-up is just about enough for things to get as calm and settled as it could be and for him to start thinking and acting rationally. Up until that absolute failure of an attempt to talk things through last September, Isak has been trying to be as logical in dealing with the breakup as possible.

He’s successful for the most part. After the second week, he finally stopped wearing Even’s sweatshirt that he “accidentally” packed together with his shit - granted, Eskild had to wrangle it away from his body, but the point is that the garment is tucked away somewhere Isak wouldn’t be able to see or reach (whatever that means), and he had convinced himself enough that it’s okay, _whatever_ , Eskild can take it. He knows Even’s scent by heart, anyway.

He was resolute in putting all his focus on his studies because there’s nothing else to do and it’s the only way to go now. He soon comes to learn that everything really comes with a price, because while his academic life flourishes, his mental and physical health slowly deteriorates. He has lost a lot of weight since then, and it’s becoming quite distressing - Isak’s habit of forgetting to feed himself when he’s too swamped with his readings. He can’t honestly count the times when he’d have to hear how loud his stomach grumbles, desperately vying for his attention before he realizes that he hasn’t eaten anything since the day before.

This was never a problem before, back when things were so fucking glorious that all he had to do was wake up and there’s already a breakfast served on the kitchen table and a half-naked boyfriend for dessert. Now, there’s still breakfast when he wakes up, but it’s much less appealing when it is Eskild’s bare ass that greets him first thing in the morning. What’s worse is that he can’t even be short with him, because after that rainy night in September, when his world fell apart for the second time within a span of two weeks, it was Eskild who picked up the broken pieces and salvaged what was left of Isak’s shattered soul.

Isak was a sopping wet mess when Eskild opened his door for him, and there were snot all over his face when Eskild forwent all that and pulled him straight into his arms. For the first time that Isak has known him, Eskild didn’t pry; he was the calmest he’s ever been when he gave Isak what seems to be the warmest hug a person could offer to another. The touch and comfort gave him such a relief because those were just what he needed the most then. After Eskild gave him a towel and a change of clothes, they sat quietly in the living room for a while with Isak’s head on Eskild’s lap as the latter softly ran his hand through his locks.

In the end, it was Isak who opened up. At first, words caught in Isak’s throat won’t come out no matter how hard he tries. Eskild had been so patient that night, and when he finally found the right words, it went on like this:

“I fucked up, ‘Skil,” he had said and ran his shaky hands over his face. “I fucked up big time. He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“If we’re talking about the same person here, then I’m pretty sure that’s not true.”

“He said it himself. Said my best isn’t enough for him.”

“He’ll come around. Both of your judgments were clouded, so you probably didn’t mean everything that came out of your mouths.”

“He’s right though, about everything.”

It took a while for Eskild to speak again. “Do you think you’ve done your best?”

It took twice longer for Isak to say: “I’m trying so hard.”

“Then that’s enough, and if it isn’t for him, then that’s not your problem anymore.” He paused. “Be that as it may, you shouldn’t forget that we’re not just talking about anybody else here. It’s _Even_.”

Isak looked up at Eskild then, and he released the first genuine smile that night. 

Eskild really has always known what Isak needs, he mused, and it’s just fitting, because even before there was an Even, there had always been an Eskild first.

It was incredible, really, how their dynamic evolved. Isak was merely a scrawny teenager when he met Eskild; he’s only a few years older than Isak, yet he’s considered him a strong parental figure in his life. He’s basically the one who raised Isak when Terje and Marianne were too busy fighting their own legal battles in whatever international courts they were assigned to. Ask Isak how many birthdays he’s spent with his parents and he won’t be able to recall the answer even if his life depends on it, but he sure as hell can tell with explicit details how Eskild once drained a whole bottle of tequila and proceeded to hump the next guy he saw the night they celebrated Isak’s nineteenth. Isak never harbored bitter feelings toward his parents for their blatant lack of presence in his life, but that’s only because he never felt like he was ever alone. Eskild has always been in the picture, and Isak can’t remember the last time he wasn’t.

When Isak was at his lowest, Eskild was the one who helped him gain his footing in a way that no one else was able to do. He was the one who paved the way for Isak’s road to accepting his sexuality at sixteen, and he was the one who witnessed an eighteen year old Isak fighting hammer-and-tongs with Terje over the phone, because _maybe_ _I don’t want to be a lawyer like you and mamma! Don’t you get that, pappa? Don’t you see that you’re taking my choices away from me?_

And sure, he has Eva who is always available when Isak feels like doing something particularly reckless, and he has Jonas who offers everything a best friend could ever offer, down from smoking free jay to the most mundane talks. They were the people he grew up with and had always been there for him since day one, but it was Eskild who never gave up on him when he was ready to give up on himself. He was the one who never stopped convincing Isak that the world isn’t as hopeless as he thought, and so was Isak, because when he was so sure he bombed his final exams which would make him ineligible to go forth with second year of law, it was Eskild who was all _‘you’re going to be the best lawyer; I just know in my bones.’_ And because it’s Eskild, of course there was also the ‘ _You can’t give up now! How else are you going to pay for all the fishcakes you stole from me - don’t even try to deny it, baby gay.’_

And even when Isak adamantly refuses to admit that he is his life guru, Eskild’s always there with his no brain-to-mouth filter, ready to give the most scattered and sometimes unwarranted pep talks that weirdly enough makes so much sense for Isak. Most of the time he’s too much to handle that Isak would lock himself to his room to keep him out, but because it’s Eskild who does not have the slightest idea what a personal space and boundaries are, he’d just sit on the opposite side of the door and keep blabbering on about never giving up, always pushing on or whatever else motivational quote he could pull out of his ass. Isak lived with him long enough to just accept the fact that Eskild is a natural meddler and that he never shuts the fuck up.

The thing is, Eskild has always been there for Isak, and he proved that he always will be, because when he asked if he could have his old room back, Eskild informed him that it was already sublet to a girl named Noora, but after the ' _she’s so pretty, Isak, and she’s so much better as a roommate; the flat smells like lavender now instead of wet socks - oh don’t frown, baby gay, you know you’re my favorite - just don’t tell Linn, okay?'_ monologue, Eskild graciously offered his own room. Isak was downright hesitant, but he’d come to know that Eskild has the biggest bed Isak’s ever seen, and his room was twice as large as Isak’s old one. He’d be creeped out by the thought that he’ll be lying on a surface where Eskild has done almost every sexcapade there ever is known to man, but beggars can’t be choosers, and even though he never failed to remind Isak how dry his sex life has gotten ever since he started sharing a bed with him, Eskild adamantly refused to let him leave, and Isak’s just really so fucking grateful for Eskild Tryggvason’s existence.

The only downside of living with Eskild a.k.a the nosiest person in the world, well - aside from having the habit of cooking breakfast with only a fucking apron to cover his front bits, is how good he is at making Isak feel like he’s utterly incompetent at taking care of himself. What’s more annoying is that he’s ninety-seven percent right, because were it not for Sana’s constant nagging and Eskild’s instinctual duty of feeding him, Isak bets his arms and legs that he’d probably be dead by now.

 _And okay_ \- so maybe Isak is not quite successful with handling this breakup at all, but in his defense, getting rational seems to be something that has to be done by someone who is far more emotionally and physically stable than him, because as he finds now, there’s absolutely nothing rational about making his way to Even instead of just barreling in the restaurant like what he planned on doing.

Still and all, Isak is seeking warmth, and Even has always been his warmth.

He’s also just as beautiful as ever. Isak’s not really sure why he is expecting Even to look different when it’s only just been a month, but then again, it took him much less than that to turn Isak’s whole world upside down, and for how he’s been dealing with this shitstorm ever since it started, time really is nothing but a relative concept for Isak now.

He can’t help but to indulge himself and observe for a bit. He can’t see much of his face, seeing that almost half of his body is submerged into the dark part of the alley. Isak can tell he has his eyes closed though. He is in Even’s direct line of vision, and Isak’s pretty sure Even would say something by now if he saw how long Isak has been standing there just ashamedly drinking him in.

Even is taking another drag when Isak decides to finally make his presence known. 

“What are you doing here?”

They find each other’s gaze so easily, but Isak hates how it feels wrong in every way. This isn’t how things are supposed to play out between them. They are Even and Isak, Isak and Even. Being together is nothing short of easy for the both of them. It had always been that way - only now it’s like every second feels more forced than the last and Isak is so close to collapsing onto the ground because there’s this sudden strain in the air that’s threatening to suffocate him, and it’s been two months _goddamnit_ , but why is he still feeling this way? 

He’s verily finding it hard to breathe, and Even has always had the ability to take Isak’s breath away, but it’s never like this; never this aggravating.

It has been 31 days, 19 hours and 47 minutes since the last time he saw his ex-lover’s face, and God it hurts. Isak hates how much it still hurts. It doesn’t grow easier with time, contrary to what those damned self-articles state. Every day drew more distance between the past and the present, but the longing and regret has never been more fresh.

Even only stares at him for a moment, and Isak can tell when the offense starts to bleed as it reflects on Even’s face before it settles with a deadpan. 

“It’s Yousef’s birthday. _My_ friend.”

Even’s voice was uptight; bitter even as he kicked a pebble with the point of his shoe. The deliberate emphasis makes Isak roll his eyes. 

_Here we go again._

“I know he’s your friend,” he almost snaps. “What I meant was what are you doing out here. It’s cold.”

As if on cue, Isak shivers in his coat.

The movement made Even’s gaze trail over his whole body, and Isak suddenly feels so conscious. It certainly is a new feeling since he’s gotten so used to Even staring at him. Even does stare a lot, and Isak cannot count how many times he berates him for it. _‘Staring is rude, baby,’_ he’d always say with a groan whenever he caught him. ‘ _Can’t help it, have you seen you?’_ was Even’s usual response before he pounced. 

He briefly wonders if that’s still what Even will say if he calls him out now. 

Having that thought enter his subconscious, Isak promptly bites his tongue.

Even’s gaze seems to stay longer on the upper part of his body, so he curiously looks down and that’s when it hits him: it’s Even’s coat. Isak is wearing his ex-boyfriend’s coat right in front of said ex-boyfriend.

_Fucking hell, he just can’t take a break, can he?_

“I was waiting for you,” Even blurts out, and the clear-cut shock is apparent on both of their faces - Even’s more prominent than Isak’s.

Isak doesn’t know what to respond except: “Oh?”

Even chooses that time to take one step away from the shadows and into the streetlight, and Isak can clearly see his whole visage now. _He’s lost weight too,_ is the first thing that comes to his mind. He also looks tired, but that’s nothing new anymore. There’s something sinister about it though, the way his cheeks seem to sink right in his face. It makes Isak want to go to the nearest shop, buy some food and feed Even right then and there.

He doesn’t, of course. He’s not allowed to do that anymore.

Even after two months of separation, Isak likes to believe that he still knows Even like the back of his hand - three years in a relationship warrants that, and right now, he can just imagine the cogs whirring inside Even’s brain as he internally grapples for the right words without losing his cool.

“I figured you haven’t told them anything since they haven't been bugging me about it,” Even says.

Of course Isak didn’t. He isn’t highly keen about declaring their breakup to everybody when he himself is still torn up about it.

Immediately, Isak’s gaze meets the wet pavement. “Yeah, no,” he says after a few moments. “I haven’t seen them since then.”

That in itself was a struggle. Two months have gone by since everything went to shit, and he has managed to successfully avoid all his friends, sans Sana and Eskild. What’s surprising though is how no one in their small gang had seemed to catch on to what happened between them. Usually, when something even remotely monumental happens that Eskild has come to learn about, Eva will soon follow, then of course so will Jonas because they live in each other’s pockets 24/7. And then there’s Mikael who is basically Even’s shadow, so he must definitely know by now and just decided to stay mum about it. The question of ‘why’ makes Isak wonder.

His train of thought is interrupted when Even coughs and says, “I haven't told them anything either.”

He still doesn’t understand what Even is getting at, so he only says, “Okay.”

Few seconds of awkward silence passes, and Isak decides that that’s enough. “Look, Even-”

“I think we should go in together,” Even says hastily in one breath. “Just to avoid any drama. It’s Yousef’s birthday and I don’t want to ruin the mood and steal his thunder or whatever.”

That finally makes Isak look up, and his nose is scrunched and eyebrows furrowed when he says, “Oh, so we’re just going to pretend that we’re still together then?”

The moment the words left Isak’s mouth, he knew right then and there that he made a mistake. That was not really how he wanted the message to come across, but even before he got the chance to retract, Even’s defensive stance comes to life, and Isak internally groans because he knows just exactly what will happen next. They’ve done this so many times the last couple of months that he’s almost used to it now. It always goes like this: if one starts, the other follows, and they’re not together anymore, but somehow three years together is enough time to sync both of them right up, and this is just not what he - _they_ _-_ need right now. 

“That’s not -”

“You know what, fine, whatever,” Even says as he steps back and begins to retreat back in the dark part of the alley. “Go right ahead. I’ll finish this.” He waves the hand that holds the cigarette dismissively, signaling that he is done with the conversation.

“I didn’t mean for that to be offensive,” Isak says, attempting one last time to placate. He absolutely cannot do this, not when he’s one second away from breaking down.

Even looks at him then. “Yeah? Well, I’m offended,” he sneers. “You sounded like you’d rather drop dead than be seen with me.”

All attempts to maintain amiability crawls out of the window. Suddenly, Isak feels hot, so hot that there’s this burning urge to shove his jacket down Even’s throat.

“Oh yeah, yes Even, because pretending to act like we’re still together is at the top of my priority list at the moment,” Isak spits, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Jesus Christ, we broke up two months ago. I honestly still feel like shit and to be honest I don’t care if that’s pathetic, but I’m not sorry that I’m not particularly enthusiastic about pretending that I love you when that’s all that I’ve been doing for the past three years!”

To say that Isak is mildly surprised at his sudden outburst is an understatement. A few people passing on the street stop in confusion and stare at him in surprise, but he doesn’t care; he’s busy feeling astounded by the context of what he just said because that is not what he was expecting to come out of his mouth at all. 

He’s thought of it of course, hell, that’s all he’s been feeling for the past two months, but he sure as hell never thought of letting these sentiments leave his subconscious. Then again, he’s sleep-deprived and overall stressed, so maybe the deliriousness finally seeped in through his brain that made him finally lose his brain-to-mouth filter.

For a second, he sees the look of surprise pass through Even’s face, but it disappears just as quickly as it came and what finally settles in is his usual nonchalant expression which Isak usually finds hot but now just wants to punch it off of his face.

“You were the one who pushed me away, remember? I wasn’t the one who left first, Isak.” 

Even’s voice is snide and resentful, and of fucking course, if there’s one thing that could make it feel like all this shit has been Isak’s fault, it’s the constant shaming of him leaving.

“I can’t do this right now,” Isak groans. “Why the fuck are we even doing this? We’re broken up! This is the exact reason why we broke up! I’m so tired of arguing with you, Even. You’re not supposed to rile me up anymore!”

Even scoffs. “I’m not riling you up! And for the record, all this fighting is not the reason why we’re in this mess and you know it, so stop making excuses and saying shit like you still love me when it wasn’t even enough for you to stay.”

That was such a slap in the face, becase it’s a fucking lie. Isak has half a mind to stomp his foot in indignance, because Even’s just being unfair.

_This cannot be happening again._

Isak takes a deep breath and tries to sire the last drop of patience within him to speak and say, “I go home and see you looking like you’d rather be anywhere than with me, Even. I knew when to leave.”

“You look at me as if I’m the last person you’d rather be seeing. I knew when to stop,” Even says it so quickly Isak feels like they’ve uttered these lines before. Maybe they did, but they’ve said a lot to each other since then that Isak could honestly not remember anything anymore. His heart is broken, he has lost himself, and he’s definitely lost Even. Words were words; they were thrown, and they hurt, but they were just means to their end. And they have ended. Everything should have stopped there.

As it turns out, apparently, it still hasn't.

“And in the end, you were the one who left first.”

_There it is again._

“I left because we needed space to grow, not because I’m not in love with you,” Isak says, and he thinks that’s the most truthful thing that has ever left his mouth. “But you stayed even if you’re unhappy with me anymore. There’s our difference.”

“I stayed,” Even emphasizes.

“You stayed, and that’s the most selfish thing you’ve ever done,” Isak says quietly.

“I stayed because I wasn’t ready to give up yet. I wasn’t ready to give up on us. On you.”

Suddenly, the anger within him resurfaces. “You gave up the moment you fell out of love, asshole,” Isak hisses. “Deny it all you want, but you did. It was you who said that you didn’t want to do this anymore, not me, so I may have been the one who left when things got hard, but it’s you who fell out of love first, when I’m still so fucking in love with you.”

Isak chokes back a sob, chest feeling so heavy.

They hold what could possibly be the longest stare down, and Isak doesn’t know how many seconds have passed, but it was Even who moves first. Right in front of his very eyes, he sees how Even’s whole demeanor laxes as he slowly leans on the wall and proceeds to drag the last bit of his cigarette stick.

“Careful with your tense, baby. Might project that you’re not just going to pretend to be in love with me tonight,” he drawls.

And _holy shit,_ the way Isak heart breaks.

“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” he admits, the emotion completely drained from his voice. His breath hitches, and he's so miserable, he realizes. He is so angry, but he is so, so much more sad and that is worse, he thinks - the feeling of desolation being more apparent, more _definitive,_ than anything else.

The words he speak are mere echoes because they are not new words; they aren’t his words, but the meaning rings loud and true and clear, especially when he says, “But even pretending right now might just be the hardest thing yet.”

Isak wipes the traitor tears that escape from his eyes and starts walking to the entrance. “I’m done with this. I’m going in.”

“And for the second time, ladies and gentlemen, he’s walking away.”

Isak pauses as his grip tightens on the cold metal door handle, and his tongue feels so tender from how hard he bites it. He knows deep in his heart that Even had said all that out of spite, just to feel some sort of a leverage, to have some sense that he had the last words out.

He absolutely refuses to let Even see that he still affects him; Isak has shown enough weakness tonight. He also doesn’t have much fight left in him. All that’s been running in his head is that this has been a mistake. He should have never stopped. He should have just ran when he got the chance.

He’s panting, and his brain feels like it’s freezing, and his fingers are literally frozen now, and all he wanted was warmth, but it seems like Even is not capable of giving that to him anymore.

Isak wants to laugh, because _fuck_ , how he thought they’d already reached rock bottom. But here they still are.

This, Isak thinks. Them, standing on the streets, in the middle of a cold October night. Isak, in front of Even, his heart absolutely breaking. Even, in front of Isak, absolutely hurting. This is rock bottom.

With one deep breath, Isak pulls the door and enters. He is welcomed with a warm temperature, but Isak only feels colder.

In the end, Even did not join for the rest of the evening. 

That’s alright, Isak muses.

Good thing he’s just numb now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit this fic is absolutely kicking my butt
> 
> shout at me in the comment section. i'm dying to hear your thoughts.


	4. the closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak starts with the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. isak's parents, berlin, and mikael saving the day

It is a freezing November night when Even introduced a new song called _August_ for the very first time, and Isak has his own way with words, but he cannot even begin to describe how much he hates it. 

To say that he is surprised is an understatement. Most break up songs he has come to hear almost always boil down to only two categories: angry or melancholy. _August_ is neither. Instead, it sounds reminiscent, like Even actually sounds happy remembering something from the past, and what’s fucked up is that up until then, Isak never thought of them as that; something that once existed and flourished, but now has ended and wilted. It is sad how the song was constructed like their whole relationship is reduced down to a small matter that is best to be remembered by, how Even is now writing songs _about_ him when he spent the past three years singing songs _for_ him.

What irks him the most is how Even introduced it. _This is for someone I used to know,_ he had drawled with his usual stupid deep sexy raspy voice, and it was truly a punch in the gut - makes him want to just disappear really, but Sana and Eskild forcefully held him down to his seat for the rest of the song.

“Remember why you’re here,” Sana whispers in his ear, and Isak rolls his eyes but settles down because she is right. Isak does know why he is in a crowded bar listening to his ex-boyfriend croon about _not talking about it because they don’t have the time_. Of course he does. It was him who sneaked a whole bottle of Vikingfjord from Linn’s pantry, stole Eskild’s phone, locked himself up in the bathroom and drunkenly called Even in the middle of the goddamn night.

It was him who felt like his throat was going to close over because the phone rang and rang before it went to voicemail and all he heard for ten seconds were - _Halla! Even here. I’m always on my phone so if I don’t answer your call it’s probably because I’m dead but it’s most likely because Isak misplaced my phone again. Anyway, you could leave your name and I’ll get back to you right after I find it, but if I don’t, call 113. Cheers! -_ then the tone beeped.

It was his heart pounding in his chest when the phone rang not even a minute later, followed by _Eskild? What’s going on? Is he okay?,_ and Even sounded so groggy but so worried, and it was just word vomit of different versions of apologies that can be heard on Isak’s end of the phone line. What’s more embarrassing is that it was so fucking half-assed and he didn’t make sense for the most part, but Even never cut the call even after five minutes had passed with Isak just being a blabbering drunken mess. Finally, when all that could be heard were his pathetic sniffles and hiccups, Even’s only response was _I deserve more than just a phone call, Isak_ before he dropped the call.

Even is now singing ‘ _we thought love was something we were meant to find’_ , and it took just about everything in him to ignore the annoying little pinches he feels in his chest. He did down Eskild’s rum and coke though, just to feel even the slightest numb. So far it hasn’t worked, and it is slightly vexing because he needed it to work like five minutes ago.

This is their song, Isak realizes, and it is beautiful, he has to admit, but fuck it hurts.

As it turns out, moving on is just a preconceived notion for people who feel ready enough to do just that. It wasn’t a real thing for Isak, not with the kind of love he has for Even. Almost four months down and it never really went away. He had spoken words he never thought he’d utter, did things he immediately regretted, but it was still there - it has always been there, lurking under the surface of his cold and hard facade, and no matter how he convinced himself, it never faded away. 

It was also the destructive kind, the consuming kind of love. It has always been passionate, so strong, so instant. The moment they met in that dingy bar, the connection was there, and it was constant. It was also undeniable - all their friends can attest to that. Isak knew, even with his mind hazy for drinking too much alcohol, that the absurdly beautiful guy with the sharp tooth and sparkling eyes was for keeps.

Even and Isak had been together for three years, and they were more or less inseparable ever since they met. So when it ended in August and only sunk to him that it did in October, he was nothing but distressed. Even was there, suddenly he wasn’t, and Isak was left with all these residual feelings that he didn’t know what to do with. He certainly couldn’t act on it, not when everything was as hostile as it could be. He got frustrated instead, and he became resentful, and he was petty, and the effect hurts just as much as the actual breakup did.

Isak turns to look at Jonas up on stage, and he’s surprised to find his bushy-browed friend already looking right at him. He moves his gaze a little farther at Eva sitting in her drum throne, and she is looking directly at him too. Even Mikael is giving him a wary glance every couple of seconds, and they really are the most unsubtle bunch because all of them are pulling a very poor attempt of concealing the tension in the air. The only one looking placid was Even, his eyes remaining closed all throughout the song.

By now, everyone in their group is aware of their break up. As it turns out, they really weren’t in the know, and Isak was content of letting it stay that way for as long as he could. But then Even’s absence was so palpable on Yousef’s birthday party and everyone kept on asking him when he’d arrive, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he broke down right in the middle of dinner. He’d laugh at his friends’ shell-shocked expressions if he wasn’t busy picking up the pieces left by the feeling of a wrecking ball just swimmingly swooping in and destroying his entire world from the conversation they had earlier. It was Sana who stepped up, and she was the one who told him that he could excuse himself from the table and go. Isak silently nodded, gave Yousef a somber birthday greeting and an _I’m so sorry I have to leave early_ , and after Yousef’s _it’s alright, man, you don’t owe us any explanation, get home safe, alright?,_ Isak left.

_So much for stealing Yousef’s thunder, huh Even?_

And that was that. It was all out in the bag now. He considered it as just another reminder that it was indeed real, that they really are broken up. Despite that, Isak felt mitigated, like a huge boulder just got lifted off his shoulders. He hates avoiding his friends, doesn’t even see them as much as he’d like to because of school coinciding with their busy schedules. He also noticed that the shitty excuses he was obviously trying to pull out of his ass whenever Jonas asked him to hangout was not faring well with his friend anymore.

Contrary to what he was expecting from his nosy friends, everyone was pretty subdued about the whole thing, and while they did not ask questions, they ultimately made their presence known by resorting to any other mode of showing affinity. Eva, who has the tendency to barge into the flat unannounced and demand to be in the know, properly constrained herself and settled on sending multiple messages a day to check up on him. Jonas made it a point to drop by Eskild's flat every now and then to bring him kebab, but he never stayed longer than ten minutes. Even Noora who Isak was starting to become friendly with sometimes leaves motivational notes on the fridge, and it was supposed to be for everyone’s enjoyment, but it obviously resonated with Isak more than anyone else in the flat. Somehow, underneath all the shitty feeling seemingly already embedded in his brain, Isak couldn’t help but think that he probably was an angel in his past life, otherwise he wouldn’t be so lucky to be surrounded by these people he considered his own family. 

All in all, everyone was pretty chill about the situation.

Everyone except one.

Five days after Yousef’s birthday, Isak found himself camping on Eskild’s living room floor surrounded by his books and notes, and he was so focused on highlighting something in his Criminology book that he violently flinched and subsequently went off the grid when the door burst open and Mikael came barreling in. Then, without any further greeting, in a very jaunty manner, he spoke.

“Hello Isak. I just want to remind you, first and foremost, that while I love with you with every fiber of my being, if you don’t figure your shit out soon, I am absolutely going to burn all your law books - well maybe except that one you’re holding right now because I’d probably use that to bludgeon you until you fucking cry. 

Listen, I don’t give a fuck how stressed you are at school or that you’re having an existential crisis or what the fuck ever. You have your own shit to deal with, I get it; so do I and everybody else, but you don’t get to push people away, not if that one person has done nothing but spend the last three fucking years loving you, and most especially if he is the only one crazy enough to tolerate your stupid, cranky ass. He’s no fucking saint, I can attest to that, and I know he’s stupid most of the time, but he’s never been more sure of you since day one. What you’ve done was so fucking moronic and I cannot believe I’m even here telling you this because I’ve always thought you’re the smart one in the relationship, but clearly I’ve gotten it all wrong.”

He paused for a second, and Isak was stunned to silence. He opened his mouth to speak, but apparently Mikael was not done.

“Don’t even try explaining shit to me, because I honestly don’t fucking care about what you say right now. You have to man the fuck up and take full responsibility here, Isak Valtersen, and I am here to tell you exactly what you are going to do, so you better take note and listen carefully. 

You are going to talk to him, and you are going to fucking apologize. Grovel on your feet or beg on your knees for forgiveness if you have to, I don’t fucking care. What I care about is how sick I am of waking up in the middle of the goddamn night thinking that I’m being fucking haunted when it was apparently only him wailing in the other room. You have to fix this shit and you have to do it soon, unless you want to be a marriage-less widower because _I swear to fucking God._

Of course, you are also going to have to pay for my much needed therapy and spa treatment after he takes your sorry ass back, and when things finally settle, you are going to pretend that I was never here and this never happened. Good fucking talk.”

Then he left.

And now here he is.

 _August_ is their final performance for the night, and after Eva introduced the band for the last time, the four sweaty and still adrenaline-pumped members head straight to the group’s reserved table. Isak can immediately feel Mikael’s glare burning a hole on his face as they approach, but what he is more aware of is Even’s eyes which are decidedly trained on Isak.

For a second, the entire group is silent.

Then, Even makes a move and announces to the whole table, “I think I’m going out for air,” before he turns and leaves. Isak arises almost immediately to follow him, but there’s a hand holding him back, and of course it’s Mikael’s.

It is a tense atmosphere for a couple of seconds as they hold eye contact, but then all the breath gets knocked out of his lungs as he is suddenly being pulled into the tightest hug. “I’m not sorry,” Mikael grumbles. “You’re still an idiot.”

Isak nods in agreement. “I know. I’m sorry, Mik.”

“Say that after you pay for my spa treatment and we’ll talk,” he jokes, but his intonation is serious, and Isak adores this boy, so much so that he has the sudden urge to bake him _kransekake_.

He pulls back and holds Mikael in arm’s length. “I’m going to bake you a _kransekake_ ,” he declares. Mikael rolls his eyes just as he hears Jonas’ _you can’t bake for shit_ in the background.

“Stop attempting to poison me and go get your man, stupid.”

So he goes. When Isak opens the door out, the air is crisp as he feels it slap him right across the face. He shivers, looks to his left, and immediately finds Even in his six foot four glory huddled against the lavender-colored wall of the next establishment a few feet away from the bar entrance. Isak slowly sidles up next to him and sends timid glances in his direction every couple of seconds. Even is lighting the joint dangling on his mouth, and everything is silent for a minute.

“You were late,” is Even’s greeting. “Then again, I didn’t think you’d come.”

“This is a big thing,” Isak mumbles, eyes trained on the huge _Parkteatret_ SCENE signage just across them. “We promised we’d always be there for the big things.”

Even snorts. “We also promised that we won’t ever break each other’s hearts. Look where we are now.”

Isak groans. “Don’t start.”

Even easily gives in and holds his hand up in surrender. 

For a while, Isak watches the smoke coming from Even’s mouth rise into the night. As he does so, a memory creeps in, and suddenly he can distinctly remember his nineteen year old self wheezing into his inhaler the first time Even let him try a stick on the roof of Isak’s ancestral home. Even looked so distraught then, and Isak would have laughed if he wasn’t so occupied struggling not to die. Since then, Even has always had a spare inhaler in his pockets even when Isak already outgrew the asthma. He also smoked less in front of Isak, but when he does, he always makes it a point to blow the smoke in the opposite direction so Isak wouldn’t have to breathe it in.

As if on cue, he turns to his other side and blows.

“So,” Isak pipes up. Even flashes him a look to indicate that he is listening. “You look good."

Even has always been gorgeous in his eyes, but tonight he is exceptionally striking. Donning all black from head to toe, the only colors popping out of his whole ensemble is his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, ocean blue eyes and red-bitten lips. Isak decides to linger on the lips a bit longer. A part of it is almost familiar, and it throws him back to those early mornings when he’s the first one to kiss that pouty mouth and the last one who gets to ravish him good night. It pains him to think that staring at it is as close as he is going to get now.

“I feel good,” Even says, bobbing his head up and down as he speaks. “It’s a good night. We got a full house.”

The last two times Isak had seen Even since the break-up, he had projected various degrees and kinds of emotions - resentment, anger, scorned, bitterness. It is a sharp contrast to what he is seeing at the moment. Now standing beside him is a calm, well-collected man, and Isak honestly has no idea what to do with that. He smiles nonetheless. 

“I noticed,” he says. “You sound good, too.”

Even passes him an amused look. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Valtersen. You of all people should know that.”

For a moment, they shared the same fond look. Isak had slurred the same exact words to him the night they met. Even was trying to be smooth then, dishing out ridiculous compliments after ridiculous compliments. The words fell short in Isak’s ears, but even in his drunken stupor, he will never forget the glint that flashes across Even’s eyes right after he uttered the quip, making Isak unconsciously squirm on his seat. It really was a no-brainer that he ended up in Even’s bed hours later.

He wills away the blush starting to creep on his face from the memory and nonchalantly shrugs. “Just saying.”

Even takes one last drag before stubbing the point of his shoe on the finished cigarette. He then picks it up and throws it in the nearest trash bin. 

“And you?” he says as he walks back. This time, he stands right across Isak so they are now face to face. For the first time tonight, Isak is not the only one looking twitchy. “How are you?”

It is a loaded question, and the answer is this: Isak has no fucking clue. _I’m fine_ is a bit underwhelming, but echoing Even’s _I feel good_ is just a downright lie. 

He takes a deep breath and releases it with, “I’m quitting law school.”

He keeps his eyes trained on the wet pavement so he fails to see the absolute gobsmacked expression in Even’s face.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot-”

“You’re not quitting law school,” Even cuts him off. His resolute tone makes Isak look at him.

“Even-”

“Absolutely not,” Even declares. He’s vehemently shaking his head, a curl falling on his forehead in the process. Isak has to hold onto his jacket a tad bit tighter to refrain himself from tucking it back up. “I didn’t spend the last two years of my life enduring the wrath of the demon child of Lucifer and Satan just so you could quit. Nope. I’m not letting you.”

 _I don’t think you could do that anymore,_ Isak muses but doesn’t dare voice it out loud because the thing is, they may be broken up now, but Even is his best friend first, and his opinion is always going to be the one that matters the most. Isak had been keeping all this for the longest time, and for a while he endured it all by himself, tortured himself by handling it without taking any outside input. He even lost the most important person in his life in the process, and Isak thinks that’s enough now. _People need people,_ Isak had once seen from one of Noora’s sticky notes.

“How is he?” he asks, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. “The demon child of Lucifer and Satan?”

Even’s face scrunches just by the mention of his scorned manager. “I don’t know, and I don’t wanna know.” Seeing the confused look on Isak’s face, he explains, “I quit."

“You did? Since when?”

“Last month,” he answers and pops another stick. “Turns out you were right all along. I was holding the band back. I couldn’t do that to them anymore, so I quit.”

Isak can’t hold back the smile now spreading across his face. This is what he wanted all along for Even, and he is so glad that he has come to finally realize it now.

“Although I guess that was only half of the reason,” Even continues, a mischievous smirk appearing on his face. “The thing is, I was one latte away from murdering Toby, and I don’t think I’d be able to get away with it, seeing that I don’t have a boyfriend for a lawyer to defend me anymore.”

That extracts a laugh from Isak, gap-tooth showing and all.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” he humors, a small smile playing in his lips. “It’s too bad that you quit though, ‘cause I always found you cute in your tiny coffee shop apron.”

Even fakes a gasp. “Isak Valtersen, are you flirting with me?”

Isak bites his lips. “Do you want in on a secret?”

“Always,” is Even’s automatic response.

“I never told you this, but sometimes I lurk outside the coffee shop before I come in just to glare at those uni girls who were blatantly staring at you.” He pauses for a beat. “They were annoying so I killed them in my mind, of course.”

Even releases a surprised chuckle. Isak smiles at the memory, too.

“They were so shameless and I was really annoyed, you have no idea,” he says. “But I felt smug too, because I knew that they could look all they want, but in my head it was clear that that’s mine.” _That was mine,_ Isak’s mind uselessly supplies.

“I hated seeing you in that coffee shop though, because I know you hated it." He chooses his next words carefully, speaking slowly. “I hated it more when you were deliberately choosing to stay and dropping everything you worked hard for in the band for something so uncertain like me. I saw how close you were at quitting, and I wasn’t going to let that happen under my nose. I wouldn’t let you quit on your dreams; not when I was about to quit mine.”

Isak doesn’t want to put a damp cloth over their current witty banter that seems to be going well so far. This is the first time in a long time that he’s held a conversation with Even where it feels like his heart is not being ripped out of his chest, and it’s refreshing, like the first breath of fresh air after being submerged in the water for too long, but Isak knows he needs to do this now.

This is exactly why he is here. He’s here because he is finally giving Even what he wants - an explanation. 

He is also giving them what they both need - a closure.

By this time, all amusement from Even’s eyes already dissipates. He doesn’t speak, and Isak is not really expecting him to. This is his turn to say something, and Even is gracious enough to give him a chance to explain himself. And truth all laid out, he doesn't know how to go with this. He spent the last few nights gathering his thoughts, finds all the possible explanations that would be compelling enough to make sense for all his stupid actions. 

Isak starts with the end.

“I wasn’t lying that night, Even. I really was coming back from Sana’s,” he starts. “But pappa called, and you know how he is. Once he starts talking, he never stops. That was how I drained my battery. I stood outside Sana’s flat for an hour talking to him on the phone.”

Isak watches Even’s face to check if he’s listening. So far he is. He takes a deep breath.

“He and mamma were in Japan then and he was going on and on about the Nagoya settlement that they’d been working on for over a year. He’d been keeping tabs on my legal opinions regarding that lately. That was probably his third phone call that month, obviously excessive from the usual once in a month update we do. This call was something else though, because he mentioned how he couldn’t wait for me to finish school so that he could finally take me under his wing, whatever that means.” Isak sniffles. It’s actually getting real cold now. 

“He talked for half an hour straight, and he never asked how I was doing.” He resents how his voice cracks, but he was so bitter then, and apparently he is still bitter now. 

“Never checked if I was still doing okay, if I was still eating properly. I was so frustrated so I called him out on it. Told him that it’d be nice to be asked about my well being even once in a while. You know what he said in response? He said he and mamma were not worried at all because they know I have you, so they know I am in good hands.”

Even has his head down, but Isak can see a sad smile crossing his face. It was such a revelation, really - his parents and Even’s relationship. Somehow along the road, Even managed to have both Terje and Marianne wrapped around his long, slim fingers. It caught him completely off-guard, how they absolutely adored Even from the get-go, even treating him like their own, and it was something that up until now Isak considers as one of the greatest unsolved mysteries of his life. 

The first time Terje and Marianne met Even was the first time Isak brought someone home. They had been dating for a year then, and he never mentioned that he was in a serious relationship because it was never really a topic for a conversation. But then in one of their once in a blue moon FaceTime sessions, his mamma mentioned in passing that _we’ll be home for the holidays, darling; I think it would be lovely if you bring your boyfriend to Trondheim for Christmas, okay love?_ Isak downright choked on his saliva right then and there, but he tried to play it cool and nonchalantly blurted, _What boyfriend?_ , and his no-bullshit father only rolled his eyes, and in an exasperated manner he spoke, _That boy your mother has been gushing over on your Instagram feed, Isak, don’t play stupid; you’re supposed to act smart, son,_ and Isak couldn’t tell what was more horrifying - his parents stalking his Instagram or the fact that they knew he has a boyfriend when he hadn’t even come out to them yet.

That Christmas dinner was something else. Isak was absolutely shitting his pants leading to that particular day, not having the slightest idea what to expect. When the actual day came, to say that Isak was underwhelmed is an understatement. The whole time he felt like he was in on a joke, like he was expecting the real Terje and Marianne to come out from wherever they were hiding and ruin the whole thing, because everything turned out to be overwhelmingly pleasant. His parents were acting completely normal - Terje was his usual self, being that pompous lawyer who couldn’t hold a conversation without inserting any law-related topics, and Marianne nodding along all the while attempting to sneak vegetables in Isak’s plate every now and then when she thought he wasn’t looking. Unexpectedly, it was Even that took the cake for behaving the strangest of all of them. All through the night, Isak was absolutely gobsmacked as he watched his boyfriend flawlessly engage into an actual conversation with his father; never running out of things to say to whatever topic Terje threw at him. His parents were clearly impressed, and their astounded expressions when Even revealed that he was not into law at all and was in fact in a band was definitely one for the books. Later, when Isak called him out on it, his boyfriend only shrugged and in a very casual manner said, “I borrowed some of your books and kept up with the news. Had to impress the future in-laws and all that.” It took all of Isak’s willpower to restrain himself from dropping to his knees right then and there in the middle of his family home’s kitchen with only a wall separating them from his parents and resorting to snogging the living lights out of Even instead.

When Isak and Even announced that they were moving in together, his parents couldn’t be more supportive, even suggesting that they’d happily take part in paying the rent. Even had absolutely refused. _We can manage,_ he had said while taking Isak’s hand right in front of Terje and Marianne (well, in front of the laptop showing their faces, seeing that both were in Switzerland at the time). _We could do it, right love?_ , he had said with confidence, and Isak couldn’t do anything but nod because his voice was suddenly stuck in his throat, and all that was running in his mind was the thought that he couldn’t really blame his parents for loving Even the way they do when he himself couldn’t even begin to describe how much he does.

“He was right, of course.” His mouth starts to tremble when he continues, “But I hadn’t even seen your shadow for weeks then, and I can’t tell him that because I knew it was all my fault anyway. I was so angry that I told him off. Told him that I didn’t want to work with him. Told him I’ve actually been thinking of quitting. He got so mad.” Isak can’t help but giggle at the picture of his dad’s face beet red in anger, but he immediately sobers as he blurts the next words. “He said that if this is still how I think three years down, then maybe I really am not cut out for this.”

Isak is now shaking his head in disbelief, just like how he did when he first heard the words over the phone. “The conversation blew out of proportion, but I was so mad, Even, and I knew he was just saying that to get a rise out of me because that is his own messed-up way of giving advice, but I yelled at him, reminded him that he was the one who wanted me to do this in the first place.

And the most fucked up thing is that he means well, I know that, but he doesn’t realize that sometimes it’s too much, and I’m doing the best that I can but he couldn’t see that because he was never here, and he’s just putting this pressure on top of everything else and it was too much. It’s too fucking much.”

Isak can admit to himself that he is not naturally academically bright. He has to struggle and work hard to get by and prove his worth. This is something that Terje never understood. For him who is a born lawyer, the profession is nothing but a child’s play. His mamma is different. Marianne is just like Isak - born from a family of lawyers whose future was pretty set even before she fully understood what being an _advokat_ means. She understands Isak’s struggle, but while she does, she was never physically there to fully comprehend it. Their relationship is not strained, per se, but his parents are the busiest people, and he of all people knows that - their lack of presence in his life is nothing short of palpable. 

Isak exhales to release the tension building in his body. “I am not saying this to put blame on him or on anyone else. This is all my fault and I am a hundred percent owning that now. I didn’t handle it well, obviously. I have issues that I have to work with, and I am well aware of that. What I wasn’t really aware of is the fact that I was pushing you away until you called me out that night. I had been working so hard to prove to my parents that I could do it just like them that I completely neglected you in return, and I’m here to apologize for it. I’m sorry for how I treated you, Even. You didn’t deserve the shit I put you through. You have always been this constant person in my life, and I took advantage of it. I’m so sorry.”

A loud crash comes from inside the bar, followed by a chorus of booming laughter. Suddenly, the front door slams wide open and a drunk man hurriedly walks out, bumping hard into Isak in the process. Even reflexively grabs both his arms to stop him from tumbling down.

“You okay?” he asks, gently leading him farther away from the raunchy crowd.

Isak pulls Even’s hand to stop him from walking. “Even, wait. Listen, please,” he begins to beg. He wants Even to really understand now, wants him to know that the profession he is currently working his way into is nothing short of demanding, and that the journey is no different. That not only does it take all his time, but it is also fucking exhausting; that most of the time his mind works a million miles per minute and there will come a time that he will snap. That he gets tired too, and sometimes he does something he doesn’t mean, and says something he never thought would come out of his mouth.

Isak wants Even to know that he knows his mistakes, he knows he is in error, but he likes to think that he has learned from it, that he is still learning from it.

He falters slightly, his whole body trembling as he tries to come up with something that is compelling enough to express his misery, and to maybe, _just maybe,_ for the tiniest possibility that Even might take him back. “My point is - my point is that you don’t deserve this mess, but I love you so much, Even, and I’m so fucking sorry.”

And then there is silence, only silence, and Isak can’t take it; _won’t_ take it.

“Say something, please,” he says, grabbing Even’s hand and gripping it tight. “You said you needed more than just a phone call, Even, and this is all I have - me. This is it, I’ve got nothing else. I’m here now, and I need you to say something now.”

For a long time, Even only looked at him. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he lets go of Isak’s hand. 

Isak’s heart sinks to his stomach.

“Even-”

He grabs the other hand and begins tracing the _‘jeofaile’_ tattoo on the side of Isak's wrist. “I never really get you. You always say you don’t like what you’re doing, that you don’t want to be a lawyer,” he says quietly, eyes trained on the marred skin. “And I always wonder why because the whole concept is absurd if you really think about it: how can someone hate something but still excels at it?”

He pauses for a moment. “The way you undermine yourself is ridiculous. It’s too much, too unhealthy for you and for everyone around you. You always think of the worst, and you drive yourself crazy overthinking about it. You make things so damn complicated. That is the problem. You hate the fact that your dad basically forced you into law school, but that isn’t true at all, is it? I know you, Isak. You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, and I know you wouldn’t do things you don’t want to do. Just let that sink in for a bit.”

He drops Isak’s hand and brings his own up to stroke his hair back. He slowly starts pacing back and forth, frustration apparent in his tenor. Then he stops, and he looks upset. “God. You should’ve talked to me. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Isak whispers, head hung low in shame.

“You just kept this all to yourself and bottled it all up,” Even mumbles to himself as if Isak didn’t speak. “I mean, I guess I’m at fault too-”

“No-”

“-I knew something was up with you. I knew! You were acting so strange even before this semester started, even before the Philippines trip. But I didn’t try hard enough to talk about it.” 

“Don’t you dare, Even.” Isak’s eyes are as hard as his voice while he grasps Even’s hand firmly. “Don’t do that. It was not your fault.”

Even is silent for a moment. “You can’t blame me, Isak. I can’t help it. Can’t help but wonder if I wasn’t there enough for you.”

“You were there. You were there enough,” Isak promises. “And that’s the thing. You were there _too much_.”

The whole neighborhood is loud, but silence ensues between them. Isak watches Even’s face carefully, looking for something, some sort of indication that he fully understands what Isak is saying.

Even sighs deep and loud, and with a newly-found conviction in his voice, he says, “I am not quitting on my dreams, and so will you. Quitting is definitely off the table. You hear me?” 

Even takes a step back and quietly continues, “But I am going to take a break. I, uh - mamma finally got the NPF-HUNT grant,” he says, licking his chapped lips. “She was appointed as the head researcher for the whole program. It’ll be conducted in Berlin this year.”

“Wow,” Isak says, a bit perplexed at the sudden shift of conversation. “Wow - um, tell her my congratulations.”

There is a nod, a pause, and an, “I’m going with her.”

In a flash, Isak feels hot and cold all over. All the muscles in his body tensed at once, and time seems to halt for a moment. 

“You’re going with her,” he repeats slowly, trying to let the words sink in. “To Berlin. Germany.”

Even nods in affirmation, his eyes trained on Isak as if gauging every minute reaction reflecting on his face. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t form words; nothing is previewing as the right thing to say in his head. He settles with, “Okay,” and steadily nods as his hand begins to shake. “Okay,” he repeats.

“Okay.”

He stops. “Wait - what about the band?” 

“We agreed that it would be for the best if we take a break. Take some sort of hiatus, Mikael calls.” 

Isak swallows hard as he tries to force himself to give Even eye contact. “But - but what about Rome?”

Even’s eyebrows rise up. “What about him?”

“You’re just going to leave him?” 

Even gives Isak a strange look - a mixture of exasperation and fondness, the one he used to give whenever Isak says something stupid, and he realized that he hasn’t been a recipient of that look in a very long time. 

“No, I’m not,” Even intones slowly, as if explaining something to a toddler. “He has you, hasn’t he? You have to go home now, Isak. You have to take care of him for the time being. I mean, he’s your child too, you know.”

Isak’s nose crunches in annoyance. “How long are you going to be away?”

Even shrugs casually. Too casually. “Depends on the project, really. The last one went on for a year and a half.”

A year and a half.

A year and a half without Even.

Isak’s mind is running miles per second, finding every last bit of excuse he could pull out. “What about Christmas? And New Year?”

“What about it?” His voice is laced with unconcealed humor now, as if he knows exactly what Isak is doing.

_We were going to spend the holiday with my parents together. You promised mamma, remember?_

“It’s a big thing?” The end of his tone makes it sound like he’s asking a question. “I mean, we promised we’ll always be there for the big things," he adds lamely.

“Since when is Christmas a big thing for us?”

“Uh, since Jesus Christ was born? Self-absorbed much, Even?”

The cackle Even releases makes Isak’s heart start pounding rapidly, his cheeks quickly heating.

 _I did that_ , he thinks. _I can still make him laugh._

Even reaches up and absentmindedly tugs one of Isak’s curls. “God, I’m going to miss you so much.” 

“There is no sense in asking you to stay, is there?” he murmurs.

Even sighs deep, then says, “No. I’m pretty set on it. Packed my bags and all that.”

Isak’s eyebrows furrow in scepticism. “Already? Wait. When did you say you're going to leave?”

Even looks down at his shoes in mild interest. “Tomorrow.”

Isak swats Even’s hand away from his head. “Tomorrow?” he exclaims. “You’re going away for God knows how long and you’re just going to tell me the night before you go?”

Even only shrugs. Isak wants to smack him.

“I didn’t think you’d care, truth all laid out.”

“You’re kidding,” he deadpans.

“No I’m not. The last time we saw each other, we . . .” He fidgets for a bit, shifting from one foot to the other as he bites on his lower lip. “I saw the way you looked at me that night, Isak,” Even mutters, resignation apparent in his voice. 

“That was a month ago,” he points out.

“Yes, but nothing really changed, has it? I’m still . . . I’m still stuck.” Even exhales, squaring his shoulders. “I can’t stay here anymore, Isak. I can’t be marinating in my depression for the rest of my life. Because this? Us? It still hurts, man. It doesn’t really go away easily. Three years of my life I’ve done nothing except love you with everything that I have and give you my all. Three years of my life was spent building my world around you, and I feel like that was all I’ve ever known, so when you started pulling away I was so lost.

And I get it, maybe not to the same degree as you expect me to, but somehow I understand now why you did what you did. But you didn’t go about the right way to show me that, and I know you’re saying sorry as best as you could, but I really don’t deserve the way you treated me, Isak.”

Isak nods along with each word, because that’s the only thing he can do.

“I have to step back before I get to move on. I need this, Isak. I owe it to myself.”

 _I need this._

Not you, not we.

_I owe it to myself._

Isak’s mouth violently trembles, but his heart - it thrives.

Even is thinking for himself. Even is finally thinking for himself this time.

He blinks back the tears that have filled his eyes - he’s quite positive that a couple slip out - and takes a moment to compose himself before he starts speaking because fucking hell - Even deserves this. He deserves to be happy. All Isak wants is to make him happy. It doesn’t hurt any less, no matter how much he knows that he deserves this. His heart breaks, but he understands.

“I understand,” he says. Discomfort weakens his face, but he smiles and continues to nod.

However melodramatic it may be that all he wants is to curl up under a pile of blankets and have a good cry, he puts a brave face and half-heartedly teases, “So what if I didn’t come tonight? You're just going to leave me like that?”

“I knew you’d come,” Even admits in confidence, but his voice turns soft when he says, “We did promise to always be there for the big things, didn’t we?”

Isak laughs, bittersweet. “This is goodbye, then.”

He feels his heart plunges down into his stomach as he utters those words. He tried to keep the pain out of his voice, but he can’t convince Even; he can’t even convince himself. It’s there, very apparent, plain as day.

“I mean, for now, sure,” Even agrees.

“For now?”

Even pulls a face, one that expresses genuine confusion. “What, you think this is it? You honestly think you’re not going to marry me after all the shit you put me through? Tough luck. I just need time to figure some shit out, but you’re stuck with me Isak Valtersen.”

Isak is stunned to silence.

“Although I guess I can’t really blame you. I did sign up for this. I signed up for all of your crazy ass when I fell in love, so.” He sighs outward towards the sky. “God give me the strength to deal with your shit though. Can’t say I could do it without divine intervention. You’re a piece of work, baby, you know that?”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before Isak’s body comes slamming his own. He feels Even’s chest vibrate from the laugh punched out from his lungs and the deep exhale he releases after.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he murmurs to Isak’s ears.

“I’ll try my best,” Isak murmurs back and lets his hands run through Even’s hair for the last time. He feels Even do the same, scratching his fingernails slightly against Isak’s scalp just like how he knows Isak likes, and Isak’s feeling so many things at the moment - surprised and sad and relieved and happy, so so happy. 

He doesn’t have any idea how many minutes have passed, and he knows they look like those couple in the streets who are big on PDAs which he usually loves to scowl at, but he’s holding Even; Isak has in his arms the most beautiful, wonderful boy, and he comes to find that he does not care for much else.

Sooner than he prefers, Even releases him and holds him at arm's length, taking what is quite a lingering look.

“Staring is rude, baby,” Isak softly admonishes. He can only imagine what he looks like - red-rimmed eyes, battered lips, and a Rudolph-looking nose from the harsh temperature.

Even’s response comes quick enough. “Can’t help it. Have you seen you?”

They share a fond smile, then Even slowly takes a step back, and then again, and again, and then he turns away, but then he abruptly whirls around again, and then he’s shouting, “Hey, Isak! What do you think of _August_?” and with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face, Isak yells back, “Pretentious as fuck!” and Even’s cackle rings loud and clear on the crowded sidewalk, and it still rings loud and clear in his ears even after he finally disappears into the curb.

So there he was, standing alone in the middle of the street, and he is left marvelling over the fact that this is the first time he’s watched Even Bech Næsheim walk out of his life, and it hurts, but it hurts in the best way. 

We’re going to be alright, Isak thinks.

“We’ll be alright,” he says aloud.

And well, as it happens, they turned out to be more than alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so nervous about this chapter guys, y'all have no idea


End file.
